












n. 


A 


^ , o N r 

< r^Ts. ' 

V •• '% ' ^ 


v 0 o 



N? 


v A c , V> • -^.V>' . *, "'• ar ^.O 

A° V ^ V % * " 1 1 “ <4° s s • 

V s [ ♦ * V ,v r - /i V. •£. Jr ~ 

; a % ; 

y, „ - ^- -^N » ■O,*’ >f> » 

<0.>+ i<? 

* O. A<S 



■$>' 'V « 

'V '$>, O 

^ V* r > ~«gz//i i^w ~ C>" * 

,-o > t o ~ 0 » -V * * A' , 

0 * a <:» J 


\° °-c. * 

» »'' -0'' r b ' h 

f "' V 

+ >&$*+ - ,\ O ^ rfjfc' >* -P. 

V V 

I 



A* v ^ 



^ **' 


^ \\ 


oV ^ % 

. e '^. 'o. A * *G <, */ ,<, 

A\ ^ ^///>2l -p 4* -ST y 

«>* V c - ' TV 

© o x ; ^ 

4 , :;^|S * x oc 

7 ^ t*. * , - 

J C> y ^ c#v^ \ kO 

,>">*% ,5 ~° v' V *’*^ .*0' 

■* Rfe>k * *■- * - A', %^ * 

’ *$ *^. 


s. 0o x. 



■ 

s'*' 




__ >& >V ;v« 

^ ^ -4. \< / s 

7 0 * A * <\ y ^ * * s s 4^ . D Of ' 0 .■> 

r$ .oNts .vX' ,11‘i 

(j ^ 4^ ^ 

*o oi^ :-*.;iwr. r ;‘ r * M9p * 

4 ^ '^- f-' a 


oN X* ?- 

V V. ^ ^ . //A ,__, - 

k Y .0, " « I '* >0 ^° 

\¥a\ .<' 




o < 


H 


X 1 *- 


4> % 

* - ^ 

**''■}>'' «.S"< ^ y °* k 

.4* ‘ A’, ' 3 


C‘ y VK>3*- <r O i 
, ■ * 0 N 0° \^ v * 

•', c* v ^ 

^ ^ R. 

<*. - r, \\* <»r 

^ ,^> . 




. 4»-%, 

^ vp <<r. i> 

a. v /* 

^ .0 <* 

.0'' c 0 N c *, X 

bo x +' 













* * o. 

, ^ o 
* 




* 
o 

* L V 








% *" 8 * rr§ 

< 'P j o v v ,-,/yy?-? i O 

y -A' * J^///>V?2-, * 

r 'V, v? ^ m -y 

* A > * •" o < 

* x 0 ©^ * 

v^V' 0 ',^ "*'' ^*V;. ..,>%* sN< ‘" v't*r. 

’ I ** v ^};w 1 .* ./% 



% %*■ 





v 



M^(\j//^ 2 - > *P w ^ c^vXV^^ ' 

^ D %2 7* 



f 0 ' s , ♦ ^ o N 0 

>0' . s \, ' 'y C* 

x ' *- %> & 

z - c, \ 

j> 7 ,- 77 ’\) J ^ rf> o 

7^- % <5 2? "A flV g> 

'o% A 0 <7, * y 

„ ' Z o_ , 0 ^ c » N ‘ * *p 

1 O i V *> ~^>c\ 

=> * * c--; :%, ' 

- - «^JC_X - - ">Ov\V.\ll X 


oo 



„>* n 0 

« 1 v N*. t ^ * 

^ ^ * 
7 y ^. o 

>7 v> 

'\ A & tr 

v S A O, * o * 

A X *H « * 

J » .> /V'2-'7_ -* 

A v » i a " o ( 

\° °* •' 



40 


































TWO BOOKS 


OP 

FEAN CIS ^ACON 

it 


OF THE 

PROFICIENCE AND ADVANCEMENT 
OF LEARNING, 

DIVINE AND HUMAN. 



LONDON: 

JOHN W. PARKER AND SON, WEST STRAND. 


MDCCCLII. 



/ 


6 ‘ 


PREFACE. 


T HIS little book is sent forth in pursuance of a plan 
(begun about a twelvemonth since by the reprint 
of the first book of Hooker) of issuing at intervals in a 
cheap form some of the chief works of our great English 
write rThat something of the kind is needed, will be 
allov d by every one who is acquainted with the general 
regie-t of our own tongue which still prevails in our 
sc ! -jols. It may be safely affirmed, that there are few 
which a boy may not pass almost entirely through 
without ever reading a line of the works of any English 
writer of eminence. In those professedly devoted to 
the study of the classics this is a matter of less con¬ 
sequence, since men who have read Sophocles and 
Plato to any good purpose will not neglect Shakspeare 
and Bacon. But in English schools (so called) this 
disregard of the best models of writing in our own 
mother tongue is a very serious evil, for it practically 
amounts to omitting to direct the attention of the 
learner to the study of any good authors at all, except 
perhaps a few scraps in books of miscellaneous ex¬ 
tracts, as great a curse to literature as epitomes. 

It seems to be taken for granted in many schools 
that none but inferior books are fit for the capacity of 
boys; or if a good author is chosen for their perusal, 
that his works must be defaced by expurgations, com¬ 
mentaries, and various kinds of assistance, intended, as 



Y1 


PREFACE. 


it would seem, more to meet ignorance on the part of 
the master than the scholar, before being put into their 
hands. Hence the market is full of crude compilations 
all professing to be for the special use of schools. One 
of the most popular forms just now for schoolbooks is 
the catechetical. We have catechisms of geography, 
history, natural philosophy, &c. &c., in endless variety. 
It is probable that the excellence of the Church 
Catechism and its wonderful success in fulfilling the 
intentions of its framers has led to the general adoption 
of the catechetical form. But the compilers of these 
manuals have not brought to their task the learning 
and judgment which distinguished the divines who drew 
up the Church Catechism. Nor have they at all under¬ 
stood the object those wise fathers had in view. Its 
very shortness might have taught them that it was by 
no means intended to supersede all further oral teach¬ 
ing, but to serve only as a guide, to indicate to the 
teacher an outline which his own industry was to fill 
up; to be a corrective to errors into which he might” 
fall; to be deeply implanted in the minds of his scholars, 
as a standard by which they might assay the doctrines 
they heard in the schoolroom or the church. Whereas 
the books of which I speak are adapted to no such 
purposes. Not only do they presume the most absolute 
ignorance on the part of the teacher, and with tedious 
prolixity enter into every little detail; but their authors 
have fallen into the common error of taking elements 
and minor details to be synonymous, and have in general 
carefully avoided entering upon the principles on which 
the science of which they are treating is founded. Nor 
are many other of the books commonly used free from 
similar objections. School histories, for example, are 
generally dry recapitulations of facts and dates, unre- 


PREFACE. 


Yll 


lieved by a single reflection springing from the com¬ 
piler’s own mind, and therefore sure to be forgotten as 
soon as read. It is the custom, moreover, now-a-days 
to add a farrago of questions, to be answered from the 
text. These, as might be expected, the schoolboy con¬ 
tents himself with looking through and making out the 
answers just well enough to escape punishment; so that, 
in fact, they prevent rather than encourage a regular 
perusal—the only method by which he could reap any 
lasting benefit. 

The root of the evil lies in the presumption that 
the teacher can call forth the mental energies of his 
scholars while his own mind lies idle. There cannot be 
a greater error. If he is converted into an engine for 
putting stereotyped questions as he wearily plods along 
the oft-repeated track of a fixed routine, he will find 
that nine-tenths of his pupils will do nothing at all, or 
at best, become mere machines. Few boys’ minds out ¬ 
strip their master’s. The clumsy compilations I have 
spoken of may gratify sloth, but can only cramp an 
active teacher. Question and answer, perhaps the most 
lively and attractive method that can be used, when it 
is extempore and illustrated by a quick fancy and a 
good text book, becomes hard and dry when put into 
a permanent form, and will only cramp the thoughts 
and weary the spirits of both master and scholar. 

The best thing a master can do for his boys is to 
choose some book really worth their reading, make 
himself master of it beforehand, and while he goes 
through it in his class-room, explain and illustrate it 
from all available sources; taking care not to omit to 
lecture upon such questions of history and general 
literature as fairly come within the compass of the task 
before him. By so doing, he will teach his boys how 


Vlll 


PREFACE. 


to instruct themselves,—and that, after all, is the grea 
end of all school work. 

The Advancement of Learning was published ii 
the year 1605. It was reprinted in the year 1629, an< 
again (at Oxford) in 1633. I have been surprised t« 
find how materially the common editions differ fron 
the original text. Words and expressions are changed 
terminations altered, and in fact, the whole text to . 
great extent modernized—a sure method of destroying. 
all traces of the earlier stages of a language. Except a 
regards the spelling, I have held myself bound to reprc 
duce the work as nearly as possible as it came from th 
author’s pen. Where the text, therefore, is fount^ t 
differ from that commonly received, it may be taken fo 
granted that the change is on the authority of the edition 
of 1605 or 1633. The latter of these appears to hav 
been corrected with considerable care; accordingly 
where they agree, I have held myself bound to mak 
no change; where they differ, I have used my owi 
judgment, guided where it was possible by the Lath 
edition. To that of 1629 I had not access until som 
sheets were printed off; but it is very inferior to eithe 
of the others, and nothing would have been gained b; 
consulting it. The Latin edition, to which I have froE 
time to time referred the reader, came from the pres, 
in 1623. A very fine copy exists in the Britis' 
Museum, and an equally good one in the Publi 
Library at Cambridge. Whether the Latin is Bacon’ 
own, or a translation from an English copy prepared b; 
him, it is not a fit time to discuss; but there is interna 
evidence to show that it preceded the Novum Organur,, 
in composition, though not in publication. 

The limits prescribed to me forbad adding much ii 
the shape of comment. I have, however, here ant 


PREFACE. 


IX 


there given a hint or a reference to other authors which 
may furnish the thoughtful student with sources of 
further reflection. 

In tracing the references, I have received no assist¬ 
ance whatever from previous editions, except the trans¬ 
lation of the De Augmentis, by G. Wats (Oxford, 1640), 
in which the name of the author supposed to be cited 
is generally added in the margin, and sometimes the 
title of the work. Bacon appears mostly to have quoted 
from memory, or perhaps from a common-place hook, 
in which he might have jotted down the pith of such 
passages as he met with while collecting materials and 
thought likely to be useful. Hence it is often difficult 
to recognise with certainty the passage he had in view. 
But although he often does not give the exact words of 
an author, I have been strongly impressed with his 
conscientiousness in interpretation, and have found no 
instance in which he distorts the meaning of a passage 
to suit his purpose. I can scarcely hope to have always 
hit on the right passage, but when the difficulty of the 
task is remembered I shall doubtless receive indul¬ 
gence. 

For the headings, the divisions into chapters and 
paragraphs, marginal notes, and glossary, I am entirely 
responsible. 


King’s College, London 
April 28, 1852. 


T. M. 


TABLE OF CONTENTS. 


BOOK I. 

PAGE 

Dedication to King James tlie First ... 1 

I. Of Cavils against Learning.4 

II, Objections of Politicians.9 

III. Pretended discredits to Learning by learned 

men.15 

IV. How the follies of Learned Men have dis¬ 

honoured Learning.23 

V. Other Errors of learned Men which mar 

the Progress and Credit of Learning . . 31 

YI. Divine Proofs of the Dignity of Learning . 37 

VII. Human Proofs.43 

VIII. Excellencies of Learning enumerated ... 55 

BOOK II. 

Proem.—The Advancement of Learning com¬ 
mended to the care of Kings.61 

I. Triple Distribution of Human Learning. Of 

Natural History.68 

II. Of Civil History.72 

III. Ecclesiastical History.78 

IY. Poetry.80 













xn 


TABLE OF CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

V. Knowledge divided first into Divinity and 

Philosophy.83 

YI. Of Divine Philosophy.86 

VII. Of Natural Philosophy, Physical and Meta¬ 
physical .88 

VIII. Of Mathematics, Pure and Mixed .... 96 

IX. Human Philosophy, or the Knowledge of 

Ourselves ... .102 

X. Of Arts concerning the Body.105 

XI. Human Philosophy as it concerns the Mind 113 

XII. Division of Knowledge into Intellectual and 

Moral.116 

XIII. Of Invention.117 

XIY. Of Judgment.124 

XY. Of the Preservation of Knowledge . . . 129 

XVI. Transmission of Knowledge.131 

XVII. Of the Methods of delivering Knowledge . 134 

XVIII. Of Rhetoric.138 

XIX. Appendices to the Methods of Delivery . . 143 

XX. Of Ethics in general.146 

XXI. Of Private and Public Good.151 

XXII. Of Moral Culture.158 

XXIII. Distribution of Civil Knowledge .... 170 
XXIV. Conclusion of the Review of Philosophy in 

general.196 

XXV. Of Theology.198 

Conclusion . . .209 


















THE 


FIRST BOOK OF FRANCIS BACON. 

OF THE PROFICIENCE AND 

ADVANCEMENT OE LEARNING, 

DIVINE AND HUMAN. 

To the King. 

T HERE were under the law, excellent King, both 
daily sacrifices and freewill offerings ; l the one pro¬ 
ceeding upon ordinary observance, the other upon a 
devout cheerfulness : in like manner there belongeth 
to kings from their servants both tribute of duty and 
presents of affection. In the former of these I hope I 
shall not live to be wanting, according to my most 
humble duty, and the good pleasure of your Majesty’s 
employments : for the latter, I thought it more respec¬ 
tive to make choice of some oblation, which might 
rather refer to the propriety and excellency of your 
individual person, than to the business of your crown 
and state. 

Wherefore, representing your Majesty many times . 
unto my mind, and beholding you not with the inquisi¬ 
tive eye of presumption, to discover that which the 
Scripture telleth me is inscrutable, 2 but with the 
observant eye of duty and admiration; leaving aside 
the other parts of your virtue and fortune, I have been 
touched, yea, and possessed with an extreme wonder at 
those your virtues and faculties, which the Philosophers 
call intellectual; the largeness of your capacity, the 
faithfulness of your memory, the swiftness of your 
apprehension, the penetration of your judgment, and 
the facility and order of your elocution: and I have 
often thought, that of all the persons living that I have 


1 See Numb, xxviii. 23. Levit. xxii. 18. 

2 Prov. xxv. 3. 

B 



2 Dedication to the King. 

known, your Majesty were the best instance to make a 
man of Plato’s opinion, 3 that all knowledge is but 
remembrance, and that the mind of man by nature 
knoweth all things, and hath but her own native and 
original motions (which by the strangeness and dark¬ 
ness of this tabernacle of the body are sequestered) 
again revived and restored: such a light of nature I 
have observed in your Majesty, and such a readiness to 
take flame and blaze from the least occasion presented, 
or the least spark of another’s knowledge delivered. 
And as the Scripture saith of the wisest king, That his 
heart was as the sands of the sea ; 4 which though it be 
one of the largest bodies, yet it consisteth of the 
smallest and finest portions; so hath God given your 
Majesty a composition of understanding admirable, 
being able to compass and comprehend the greatest 
matters, and nevertheless to touch and apprehend the 
least; whereas it should seem an impossibility in nature, 
for the same instrument to make itself fit for great and 
small works. And for your gift of speech, I call to 
mind what Cornelius Tacitus saith of Augustus Caesar : 
Augusto projiuens, et quce principem deceret, eloquentia 
fuit. b For, if we note it well, speech that is uttered 
with labour and difficulty, or speech that savoureth of 
the affectation of art and precepts, or speech that is 
framed after the imitation of some pattern of eloquence, 
though never so excellent; all this hath somewhat ser¬ 
vile, and holding of the subject. But your Majesty’s 
manner of speech is indeed prince-like, flowing as from 
a fountain, and yet streaming and branching itself into 
nature’s order, full of facility and felicity, imitating 
none, and inimitable by any. And as in your civil 
estate there appeareth to be an emulation and conten¬ 
tion of your Majesty’s virtue with your fortune ; a vir¬ 
tuous disposition with a fortunate regiment; a virtuous 
expectation (when time was) of your greater fortune, with 
a prosperous possession thereof in the due time ; a vir¬ 
tuous observation of the laws of marriage, with most 
blessed and happy fruit of marriage; a virtuous and 
most Christian desire of peace, with a fortunate inclina¬ 
tion in your neighbour princes thereunto : so likewise, 


3 Phaedo, i. 72,s<?<?. (Stepli.) Menon, ii. 81, and cf. Tlieaet. 
i . 1G6 and 191, and Aristot. de Memnr. 2. 

4 1 Kings iv. 29. 5 Tac. Annul, xiii. 3. 



Dedication to the King. 3 

in these intellectual matters, there seemeth to he no 
less contention between the excellency of your Majesty’s 
gifts of nature, and the universality and perfection of 
your learning. For I am well assured that this which 
I shall say is no amplification at all, but a positive and 
measured truth; which is, that there hath not been 
since Christ’s time any king or temporal monarch, 
which has been so learned in all literature and erudi¬ 
tion, divine and human. For let a man seriously and 
diligently revolve and peruse the succession of the 
emperors of Home; of which Caesar the Dictator, who 
lived some years before Christ, and Marcus Antoninus, 
were the best learned; and so descend to the emperors 
of Grsecia, or of the West; and then to the lines of 
France, Spain, England, Scotland, and the rest, and he 
shall find this judgment is truly made. For it seemeth 
much in a king, if, by the compendious extractions of 
other men’s wits and labours, he can take hold of any 
superficial ornaments and shows of learning; or if he 
countenance and prefer learning and learned men: but 
to drink indeed of the true fountains of learning, nay, 
to have such a fountain of learning in himself, in a 
king, and in a king born, is almost a miracle. And the 
more, because there is met in your Majesty a rare con¬ 
junction, as well of divine and sacred literature, as of 
profane and human; so as your Majesty standeth in¬ 
vested of that triplicity, which in great veneration was 
ascribed to the ancient Hermes; the power and fortune 
of a king, the knowledge and illumination of a priest, 
and the learning and universality of a philosopher. 6 
This propriety inherent and individual attribute in 
your Majesty deserveth to be expressed not only in the 
tame and admiration of the present time, nor in the 
history or tradition of the ages succeeding, but also in 
some solid work, fixed memorial, and immortal monu¬ 
ment, bearing a character or signature both of the 
power of a king, and the difference and perfection of 
such a king. 

Therefore I did conclude with myself, that I could 
not make unto your Majesty a better oblation than of 
some Treatise tending to that end, whereof the sum will 
consist of these two parts; the former, concerning the 


6 See the argument of Marsilius Ficinus, prefixed to the 
Poemander of Hermes Trismegistus. 

B 2 



4 Of Cavils against Learning. Objections of Divines. # 

excellency of Learning and Knowledge, and the excel¬ 
lency of the merit and true glory in the augmentation 
and propagation thereof: the latter, what the parti¬ 
cular acts and works are, which have been embraced 
and undertaken for the Advancement of Learning; and 
again, what defects and undervalues I find in such par¬ 
ticular acts : to the end, that though I cannot positively 
or affirmatively advise your Majesty, or propound unto 
you framed particulars ; yet I may excite your princely 
cogitations to visit the excellent treasure of your own 
mind, and thence to extract particulars for this pur¬ 
pose, agreeable to your magnanimity and wisdom. 


Of Cavils 

against 

Learning. 


I. 1. TN the entrance to the former of 
-i these, to clear the way, and as 
it were to make silence, to have the true 
testimonies concerning the dignity of 
Learning to be better heard, without the interruption of 
tacit objections; I think good to deliver it from the 
discredits and disgraces which it hath received, all from 
ignorance; but ignorance severally disguised ; appear¬ 
ing sometimes in the zeal and jealousy of Divines; 
sometimes in the severity and arrogancy of Politiques ; 
and sometimes in the errors and imperfections of learned 
men themselves. 

2. I hear the former sort say, that Knowledge is of 
those things which are to be accepted of with great 
limitation and caution; that the aspiring to overmuch 
knowledge was the original temptation and sin where¬ 
upon ensued the fall of man; that Knowledge hath in it 
somewhat of the serpent, and therefore where it entereth 
into a man it makes him swell; Scientia infiat : 7 that 
Solomon gives a censure, That there is no end of making 
hooks, and that much reading is weariness of the flesh f 
and again in another place, That in spacious knowledge 
there is much contestation, and that he that increaseth 
knowledge increaseth anxiety ; 9 that St. Paul gives a ca¬ 
veat, That we he not spoiled through vain philosophy f 
that experience demonstrates how learned men have 
been arch-heretics, how learned times have been inclined 
to atheism, and how r the contemplation of second causes 


7 1 Cor. viii. 1. 
9 Eccl. i. 18. 


8 Eccl. xii. 12. 
1 Col. ii. 8. 



Danger of Knowledge lies not in Quantity, but Quality ; 5 

doth derogate from our dependence upon God, who is 
the first cause. 

t 3. To discover then the ignorance and error of this 
opinion, and the misunderstanding in the grounds 
thereof, it may well appear these men do not ob¬ 
serve or consider that it was not the pure knowledge 
of nature and universality, a knowledge by the light 
whereof man did give names unto other creatures in 
Paradise, 2 as they were brought before him, according 
unto their proprieties, which gave the occasion to the 
fall: but it was the proud knowledge of good and evil, 
with an intent in man to give law unto himself, and to 
depend no more upon God’s commandments, which 
was the form of the temptation. Neither is it any 
quantity of knowledge, how great soever, that can 
make the mind of man to swell; for nothing can fill, 
much less extend the soul of man, but God and the 
contemplation of God ,- and therefore Solomon, speak¬ 
ing of the two principal senses of inquisition, the eye 
and the ear, affirmeth that the eye is never satisfied 
with seeing, nor the ear with hearing ; 3 and if there be 
no fulness, then is the continent greater than the con¬ 
tent : so of knowledge itself, and the mind of man, 
whereto the senses are but reporters, he defineth like¬ 
wise in these words, placed after that Kalendar or 
Ephemerides, which he maketh of the diversities of 
times and seasons for all actions and purposes ; and 
concludeth thus: God hath made all things beautiful , 
or decent , in the true return of their seasons: Also he 
hath placed the world in mans heart , yet cannot man 
find out the work which God worketh from the beginning 
to the end: A declaring not obscurely, that God hath 
framed the mind of man as a mirror or glass, capable 
of the image of the universal world, and joyful to re¬ 
ceive the impression thereof, as the eye joyeth to receive 
light; and not only delighted in beholding the variety 
of things and vicissitude of times, but raised also to 
find out and discern the ordinances and decrees, which 
throughout all those changes are infallibly observed. 
And although he doth insinuate that the supreme or 
summary law of nature, which he calleth, The work 
which God worketh from the beginning to the end , is not 


2 See Gen. ii. and iii. 


Eccl. i. 8. 


4 Eccl. iii. 11. 



6 Charity .its true corrective. 

possible to be found out by man; yet that doth not dero¬ 
gate from the capacity of the mind, but may be referred 
to the impediments, as of shortness of life, ill conjunc¬ 
tion of labours, ill tradition of knowledge over from 
hand to hand, and many other inconveniences, where- 
unto the condition of man is subject. For that nothing 
parcel of the world is denied to man’s inquiry and in¬ 
vention, he doth in another place rule over, when he 
saith, The spirit of man is as the lamp of God, where - 
with he searcheth the inwardness of all secrets . 5 If then 
such be the capacity and receipt of the mind of man, it 
is manifest that there is no danger at all in the propor¬ 
tion or quantity of knowledge, how large soever, lest it 
should make it swell or out-compass itself; no, but it 
is merely the quality of knowledge, which, be it in 
quantity more or less, if it be taken without the true 
corrective thereof, hath in it some nature of venom or 
malignity, and some effects of that venom, which is 
ventosity or swelling. This corrective spice, the mixture 
whereof maketh Knowledge so sovereign, is Charity, 
which the Apostle immediately addeth to the former 
clause: for so he saith, Knowledge bloioeth up, but 
Charity buildeth up; not unlike unto that which he 
delivereth in another place : If I spake, saith he, with 
the tongues of men and angels, and had not charity, it 
were but as a tinkling cymbal ; 6 not but that it is an 
excellent thing to speak with the tongues of men and. 
angels, but because, if it be severed from charity, and 
not referred to the good of men and mankind, it hath 
rather a sounding and unworthy glory, than a meriting 
and substantial virtue. And as for that censure of 
Solomon, concerning the excess of writing and reading 
books, and the anxiety of spirit which redoundeth from 
knowledge; and that admonition of St. Paul, That we 
be not seduced by vain philosophy; let those places be 
rightly understood, and they do indeed excellently set 
forth the true bounds and limitations, whereby human 
knowledge is confined and circumscribed; and yet with¬ 
out any such contracting or coarctation, but that it may 
comprehend all the universal nature of things; for these 
limitations are three : the first, That we do not so place 
our felicity in knowledge, as we forget our mortality: 
the second, That we make application of our knowledge , 


5 Prov. xx. 27. 


0 1 Cor. xiii. 1. 



Triple limitation of Human Knowledge. 7 

to give ourselves repost and contentment, and not distaste 
or repining: the third, That we do not presume by the 
contemplation of nature to attain to the mysteries of 
God. For as touching the first of these, Solomon doth 
excellently expound himself in another place of the 
same book, where he saith : 7 I saw well that knowledge 
recedeth as far from ignorance as light doth from dark¬ 
ness ; and that the wise mans eyes keep watch in his 
head, whereas the fool roundeth about in darkness: but 
icithal I learned, that the same mortality involveth them 
both. And for the second, certain it is, there is no 
vexation or anxiety of mind which resulteth from know¬ 
ledge otherwise than merely by accident; for all know¬ 
ledge and wonder (which is the seed of knowledge) is 
an impression of pleasure in itself: but when men fall 
to framing conclusions out of their knowledge, applying 
it to their particular, and ministering to themselves 
thereby weak fears or vast desires, there groweth 
that carefulness and trouble of mind which is spoken 
of: for then knowledge is no more Lumen siccum, 
whereof Heraclitus the profound 8 said, Lumen siccum 
optima anima; but it becometh Lumen madidum, or 
maceratum, being steeped and infused in the humours 
of the affections. 9 And as for the third point, it de- 
serveth to be a little stood upon, and not to be lightly 
passed over: for if any man shall think by view and 
inquiry into these sensible and material things to attain 
that light, whereby he may reveal unto himself the 
Nature or Will of God, then indeed is he spoiled by vain 
philosophy : for the contemplation of God’s creatures 
and works produceth (having regard to the works and 
creatures themselves), knowledge, but having regard to 
God, no perfect knowledge, but wonder, which is 
broken knowledge. And therefore it was most aptly 
said by one of Plato’s school, 1 That the sense of man 
carrietli a resemblance with the sun, which, as we see, 
openeth and revealeth all the terrestrial globe ; but then 
again it obscureth and concealeth the stars and celestial 
globe: so doth the sense discover natural things, but it 


7 Eccl. ii. 13. 8 Or obscure —6 okotuvoq. 

9 Ap. Stob. Serm. v. 120, (quoted by Ritter and Preller, 
Hist. Phil., § 47.) See Coleridge, Aids to Lef. Comment on 
Aph. viii. 

1 Vide Philo lud. de Somn., p. 41, (edit. A. F. Pfeiffer.) 



8 


Advance in Knowledge leads Man to God. 

darheneth and shutteth up divine. And hence it is true 
that it hath proceeded, that divers great learned men 
have been heretical, whilst they have sought to fly up to 
the secrets of the Deity by the waxen wings of the senses. 
And as for the conceit that too much knowledge should 
incline a man to atheism, and that the ignorance of 
second causes should make a more devout dependence 
upon God, which is the first cause; first, it is good to 
ask the question which Job asked of his friends : Will 
you lie for God , as one man will do for another, to 
gratify him?' 2 Dor certain it is that God worketh 
nothing in nature but by second causes : 3 and if they 
would have it otherwise believed, it is mere impos¬ 
ture, as it were in favour towards God; and nothing 
else but to offer to the Author of Truth the unclean 
sacrifice of a lie. But farther, it is an assured truth, 
and a conclusion of experience, 'that a little or super¬ 
ficial knowledge^of philosophy may incline the mind of 
man to atheism, but a farther proceeding therein doth 
bring the mind back again to religion: for in the 
entrance of philosophy, when the second causes, which 
are next unto the senses, do offer themselves to the 
mind of man, if it dwell and stay there it may induce 
some oblivion of the highest cause ; but when a- man 
passeth on farther, and seeth the dependence of causes, 
and the works of Providence; then, according to the 
allegory of the poets, he will easily believe that the 
highest link of nature’s chain must needs be tied to the 
foot of Jupiter’s chair. 4 To conclude therefore, let no 
man upon a weak conceit of sobriety or an ill-applied 
moderation think or maintain, that a man can search 
too far, or be too well studied in the book of God’s 
word, or in the book of God’s works; divinity or 
philosophy; but rather let men endeavour an endless 
progress or proficience in both; only let men beware 
that they apply both to charity, and not to swelling; 
to use, and not to ostentation; and again, that they 
do not unwisely mingle or confound these learnings 
together. 


* Job xiii. 7. 

3 Compare Hooker Eccl. Pol., i. 2. See also Butler, Anal., 
part i. c. 2. 

* Horn. II. viii. 19; and conf. Plato, Theaet. i. 153.. 



Counsels of Cato and Virgil ; Charges against Socrates. 9 

Objections ^L L And as f° r the disgraces which 

of Politi- Learning receiveth from Politiques,theybe 
cians. °f this nature ; that Learning doth soften 
men’s minds, and makes them more un¬ 
apt for the honour and exercise of arms; (that it doth 
mar and pervert men’s dispositions for matter of go¬ 
vernment and policy ,\ in making them too curious and 
irresolute by variety 'of reading, or too peremptory or 
positive by strictness of rules and axioms, or too im¬ 
moderate and overweening by reason of the greatness 
of examples, or too incompatible and differing from the 
times by reason of the dissimilitude of examples; or at 
least, that it doth divert men’s travails from action and 
business, and bringeth them to a love of leisure and 
privateness; and that it doth bring into states a relaxa¬ 
tion of discipline, whilst every man is more ready to 
argue than to obey and execute. Out of this conceit, 
Cato, surnamed the Censor, one of the wisest men 
indeed that ever lived, when Carneades the philosopher 
came in embassage to Rome, and that the young men 
of Rome began to flock about him, being allured with 
the sweetness and majesty of his eloquence and learn¬ 
ing, gave counsel in open senate that they should give 
him his dispatch with all speed, lest he should infect 1 -'' 
and enchant the minds and affections of the youth, and 
at unawares bring in an alteration of the manners and 
customs of the state . 5 Out of the same conceit or 
humour did Yirgil, turning his pen to the advantage of 
his country, and the disadvantage of his own profession, 
make a kind of separation between policy and govern¬ 
ment, and between arts and sciences, in the verses so 
much renowned, attributing and challenging the one to 
the Romans, and leaving and yielding the other to the 
Grecians: Tu regereimperiopopulos, JRomane, memento , 
See tibi erunt artes, &c . 6 So likewise we see that 
Anytus, the accuser of Socrates,, laid it as an article of 
charge and accusation against him, that he did, with 
the variety and power of his discourses and disputations, 
withdraw young men from due reverence to the laws 
and customs of their country, and that he did profess a 
dangerous and pernicious science, which was, to make 
the worse matter seem the better, and to suppress 
truth by force of eloquence and speech . 7 


5 Pint. vit. Cat. 

« Virg. JOCn. vi. 851. 


7 Plato, Apol. Soc.j i. 19,24, et at. 



10 


In States , Arms and Learning flourish together. 

2. But these, and the like imputations, have rather 

a countenance of gravity than any ground of justice : j 
for experience doth warrant, that both in persons and 
in times, there hath been a meeting and concurrence in 
Learning and Arms, flourishing and excelling in the 
same men and the same ages. - For, as for men, there 
cannot be a better nor the like instance, as of that pair, 
Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar the Dictator; ; 
whereof the one was Aristotle’s scholar in philosophy, 
and the other was Cicero’s rival in eloquence: or if any 
man had rather call for scholars that were great ! 
generals, than generals that were great scholars, let him j 
take Epaminondas the Theban, or Xenophon the Athe- j 
nian; whereof the <5ne was the first that abated the 
power of Sparta, and the other was the first that made J 
way to the overthrow of the monarchy of Persia. And 
this concurrence is yet more visible in times than in 
persons, by how much an age is a greater object than a 
man. For both in Egypt, Assyria, Persia, Grrecia, 
and Pome, the same times that are most renowned for 
arms, are likewise most admired for learning, so that 
the greatest authors and philosophers, and the greatest 
captains and governors have lived in the same ages. 
Neither can it otherwise be: for as in man the ripeness 
of strength of the body and mind cometh much about 
an age, save that the strength of the body cometh 
somewhat the more early, so in states, arms and learn¬ 
ing, whereof the one correspondeth to the body, the 
other to the soul of man, have a concurrence or near 
sequence in times. 

3. And for matter of Policy and Government, that 
learning should rather hurt, than enable thereunto, is a 
thing very improbable : we see it is accounted an error 
to commit a natural body to empiric physicians, which 
commonly have a few pleasing receipts whereupon 
they are confident and adventurous, but know neither 
the causes of diseases, nor the complexions of patients, 
nor peril of accidents, nor the true method of cures: 
we see it is a like error to rely upon advocates or 
lawyers, which are only men of practice and not 
grounded in their books, who are many times easily 
surprised when matter falleth out besides their experi¬ 
ence, to the prejudice of the causes they handle : so by 
like reason it cannot be but a matter of doubtful con¬ 
sequence if states be managed by empiric statesmen, 



Learned Statesmen , why successful; examples. 11 

not well mingled witli men grounded in learning. But 
contrariwise, it is almost without instance contradictory 
that everCany government was disastrous that was in 
the hands of learned governors .' 1 For howsoever it hath 
been ordinary with politic men to extenuate and disable 
learned men by the names of pedants; yet in the 
records of time it appeareth, in many particulars, that 
the governments of princes in minority (notwithstand¬ 
ing the infinite disadvantage of that kind of state) 
have nevertheless excelled the government of princes 
of mature age, even for that reason which they seek to 
traduce, which is, that by that occasion the state hath 
been in the hands of pedants : for so was the state of 
Eome for the first five years, which are so much mag¬ 
nified, during the minority of Nero, in the hands of 
Seneca, a pedant: so it was again, for ten years’ space 
or more, during the minority of Gordianus the younger, 
with great applause and contentation in the hands of 
Misitheus, a pedant: so was it before that, in the 
minority of Alexander Severus, in like happiness, in 
hands not much unlike, by reason of the rule of the 
women, who were aided by the teachers and preceptors. 
Nay, let a man look into the government of the bishops 
of Eome, as by name, into the government of Pius 
Quintus, and Sextus Quintus, in our times, who were 
both at their entrance esteemed but as pedantieal 8 friars, 
and he shall find that such popes do greater things, 
and proceed upon truer principles of estate, than those 
which have ascended to the papacy from an education 
and breeding in affairs of estate and courts of princes ; 
for although men bred in learning are perhaps to seek 
in points of convenience and accommodating for the 
present, which the Italians call Ragioni di stcito, whereof 
the same Pius Quintus could not hear spoken with 
patience, terming them inventions against religion and 
the moral virtues ; yet on the other side, to recompense 
that, they are perfect in those same plain grounds of 
religion, justice, honour, and moral virtue, which if 
they be well and watchfully pursued, there will be 
seldom use of those other, no more than of physic in a 
sound or well-dieted body- \Neither can the experience 
of one man’s life furnish examples and precedents for 


Edit. 3605, prejudicial. The Latin edition has “fraterculis 
rerum imperitis .” 






12 Mischiefs incident to Learning outweighed by its Uses. 

the events of ode man’s life: for, as it happeneth some- ; 
times that the grandchild, or other descendants, re- j 
sembleth the ancestor more than the son; so many 
times occurrences of present times may sort better ! 
with ancient examples than with those of the latter or 
immediate times : and lastly, the wit of one man can no 
more countervail learning than one man’s means can 
hold way with a common purse. 

4. And as for those particular seducements, or in¬ 
dispositions of the mind for policy and government, 
which Learning is pretended to insinuate; if it be granted 
that any such thing be, it must be remembered withal, 
that learning ministereth in every of them greater 
strength of medicine or remedy than it offereth cause 
of indisposition or infirmity. J’or if by a secret opera¬ 
tion it make men perplexed and irresolute, on the 
other side by plain precept it teacheth them when and 
upon what ground to resolve; yea, and how to carry 
things in suspense without prejudice, till they resolve ; 
if it make men positive and regular, it teacheth them 
what things are in their nature demonstrative, and 
what are conjectural, and as well the use of distinctions 
and exceptions, as the latitude of principles and rules. 
If it mislead by disproportion or dissimilitude of 
examples, it teacheth men the force of circumstances, 
the errors of comparisons, and all the cautions of appli¬ 
cation ; so that in all these it doth rectify more effectu¬ 
ally than it can pervert. And these medicines it con- 
veyeth into men’s minds much more forcibly by the 
quickness and penetration of examples. For let a man 
look into the errors of Clement the seventh, so lively 
described by Guicciardine, who served under him, or 
into the errors of Cicero, painted out by his own pencil in 
his Epistles to Atticus, and he will fly apace from being 
irresolute. Let him look into the errors of Phocion, 
and he will beware how he be obstinate or inflexible. 
Let him but read the fable of Ixion, 9 and it will hold 
him from being vaporous or imaginative. Let him 
look into the errors of Cato the second, and he will 
never be one of the Antipodes, to tread opposite to the 
present world. 1 

5. And for the conceit that Learning should dis- 


9 Pind. Pyth. ii. 21, seq. 


1 Vid. Cic. ad Att. ii. 1. 



13 


Learned Men alone love Work for its own sake. 

I pose men to leisure and privateness, and make men 
slothful; it were a strange thing if that which ac- 
| customeththe mind to a perpetual motion and agitation 
i should induce slothfulness: whereas contrariwise it 
! may be truly affirmed, (that no kind of men love busi¬ 
ness for itself but those that are learned $ for other 
I persons love it for profit, as a hireling, that loves the 
work for the wages; or for honour, as because it 
beareth them up in the eyes of men, and refresheth 
their reputation, which otherwise would wear; or 
because it putteth them in mind of their fortune, and 
I giveth them occasion to pleasure and displeasure; or 
| because it exerciseth some faculty wherein they take 
pride, and so entertaineth them in good humour and 
pleasing conceits towards themselves; or because it 
advanceth any other their ends. So that, as it is said 
of untrue valours, that some men’s valours are in the 
eyes of them that look on; so such men’s industries 
are in the eyes of others, or at least in regard of their 
own designments : only learned men love business as 
an action according to nature, as agreeable to health of 
mind as exercise is to health of body, taking pleasure 
in the action itself, and not in the purchase : so that of 
all men they are the most indefatigable, if it be towards 
any business which can hold or detain their mind. 

And if any man be laborious in reading and study 
and yet idle in business and action, it groweth from 
some weakness of body or softness of spirit; such as 
Seneca speaketh of: Qttidam tam sunt umbratiles , ut 
putent in turbido esse quicquid in luce est; and not of 
learning: well may it be that such a point of a man’s 
nature may make him give himself to learning, but it 
is not learning that breedeth any such point in his 
nature. 

6. And that learning should take up too much time 
or leisure: I answer, the most active or busy man 
that hath been or can be, hath, no question, many 
vacant times of leisure, while he expecteth the tides 
and returns of business (except he be either tedious and 
of no dispatch, or lightly and unworthily ambitious to 
meddle in things that may be better done by others:) 
and then the question is, but how those spaces and 
times of leisure shall be filled and spent; whether in 
pleasures or in studies; as was well answered by 
Demosthenes to his adversary iEschines, that was a 


14 


Revieio of the Judgments of Cato and Virgil, 


man given to pleasure, and told him, That his oration . 
did smell of the lamp: Indeed, (said Demosthenes. | 
there is a great difference between the things that yon 
and I do by lamp-light? So as no man need doul 
that learning will expulse business, but rather it wi 
keep and defend the possession of the mind again-* 
idleness and pleasure,which otherwise at unawar<> 
may enter to the prejudice of-both. 

7. Again, for that other conceit that Learnir 
should undermine the reverence of laws and govert 
ment, it is assuredly a mere depravation and calumn;- 
without all shadow of truth. For to say that a blin 
custom of obedience should be a surer obligation tin 
duty taught and understood, it is to affirm, that a 
blind man may tread surer by a guide than a seeii 
man can by a light. And it is without all controvers , 
that learning doth make the minds of men gent. 1 
generous, maniable, 3 and pliant to government; where 
ignorance makes them churlish, thwart, and mutinou 
and the evidence of time doth clear this assertic I 
considering that the most barbarous, rude, and u 
learned times have been most subject to tumults, se< 
tions, and changes. 

8. And as to the judgment of Cato the Censor, 
was well punished for his blasphemy against ‘learnir . 
in the same kind wherein he offended; for when .< 
was past threescore years old, he was taken with 
extreme desire to go to school again, and to learn t 
Greek tongue, to the end to peruse the Greek authoi. • 
which doth well demonstrate that his former censr 
of the Grecian learning was rather an affected gravi 
than according to the inward sense of his own opini( 
And as for Virgil's verses, though it pleased him 
brave the world in taking to the Homans the art 
empire, and leaving to others the arts of subjects ; i 
so much is manifest that the Eomans never ascenc 



2 Plutarch. Told, however, of Pytheas, not .Escliines. 

3 The edition of 1605 reads amiable, that of 1633 mania 
I have retained the latter word because I find in the correspo 
ing passage in the Latin edition, artes—teneros reddunt, sequa 
cereos. It occurs elsewhere in Bacon’s writings. 



15 


and the Circumstances of Socrates’ death. 

greatest perfection, there lived the best poet, Yirgilius 
Maro; the best historiographer, Titus Livius; the 
best antiquary, Marcus Yarro; and the best, or second 
orator, Marcus Cicero, that to the memory of man are 
known. As for the accusation of Socrates, the time 
must be remembered when it was prosecuted; which 
was under the Thirty Tyrants, the most base, bloody, 
and envious persons that have governed; which revo¬ 
lution of state was no sooner over, but Socrates, whom 
they had made a person criminal, was made a person 
heroical, and his memory accumulate with honours divine 
and human ; and those discourses of his which were then 
termed corrupting of manners, were after acknowledged 
for sovereign medicines of the mind and manners, and 
so have been received ever since till this day. 4 Let 
this, therefore, serve for answer to Politiques, which 
in their humorous severity, or in their feigned gravity, 
have presumed to throw imputations upon learning; 
which redargution nevertheless (save that we know 
not whether our labours may extend to other ages) 
were not needful for the present, in regard of the love 
and reverence towards learning, which the example 
and countenance of two so learned Princes, Queen 
Elizabeth, and your Majesty, being as Castor and 
Pollux, Lucida sidera , 5 stars of excellent light and 
most benign influence, hath wrought in all men of place 
and authority in our nation. 

III. 1. Now therefore we come to that Pretended 
third sort of discredit or diminution of discredits 
credit that groweth unto Learning from done to 
learned men themselves, which commonly Learning by 
cleaveth fastest: it is either from their learned men. 
fortune; or from their manners; or from the nature 
of their studies. For the first, it is not in their power; 
and the second is accidental; the third only is proper 
to be handled : but because we are not in hand with 
true measure, but with popular'estimation and conceit, 
it is not amiss to speak somewhat of the two former. 
The derogations therefore which grow to learning from 
the fortune or condition of learned men, are either in 
respect of scarcity of means, or in respect of private¬ 
ness of life and meanness of employments. 

4 Whether the Athenians repented so soon of their injustice 

may be fairly doubted. See Grote, Hist, of Greece, vol. viii. ad 
Jin. 5 Hor., Od. 1. iii. 2. 




16 Objections to Scholars examined; 1. their Poverty. 

2. Concerning want, and that it is the case of learned 
men usually to begin with little, and not to grow rich 
so fast as other men by reason they convert not their 
labours chiefly to lucre and increase : it were good to 
leave the common place in commendation of poverty 
to some friar to handle, to whom much was attributed 
by Machiavel in this point; when he said, That the 
Icingdom of the clergy had been long before at 'an end, if 
the reputation and reverence toivards the poverty of 
friars had not borne out the scandal of the superfluities 
and excesses of bishops and prelates . 6 7 So a man might 
say that the felicity and delicacy of princes and great 
persons had long since turned to rudeness and bar¬ 
barism, if the poverty of learning had not kept up 
civility and honour of life :) but without any such 
advantages, it is worthy the observation what a 
reverend and honoured thing poverty was for some 
ages in the Roman state, which nevertheless was a 
state without paradoxes. For we see what Titus Livius 
saith in his introduction: Cceterum aut me amor negotii 
suscepti fallit aut nulla unquarn respublica nec major, 
nec sanction, nec bonis exemplis ditior fuit; nec in 
quam tarn seres avaritia luxuriaque immigraverint; 
nec ubi tantus ac tarn diu paupertati ac parsimonies 
honos fuerit. We see likewise, after that the state of 
Rome was not itself, but did degenerate, how that 
person that took upon him to be counsellor to Julius 
Caesar after his victory where to begin his restoration 
of the state, maketh it of all points the most summary 
to take away the estimation of wealth: Verum hcec , et 
omnia mala pariter cum honore pecuniee desinent: si 
neque magistratus, neque alia vulgo cupienda, venalia 
eruntJ To conclude this point, as it was truly said, 
that Rubor est virtutis color, though sometime it come 
from vice ; 8 so it may be fitly said that Paupertas est 
virtutis fortuna, though sometime it may proceed from 
misgovernment and accident. Surely Solomon hath 
pronounced it both in censure, Qui festinat ad divitias 
non erit insons ; 9 and in precept; Buy the truth, and 

6 Mach. Disc, on Liv. dec. 1. iii. 1., speaking of the Fran¬ 
ciscan and Dominican orders. 

7 Epist. 1. ad G. C<bs. dc Rep. ord. (Sallustio imput.) 

8 Diog. Cyn. ap. Laert. vi. 54. Compare Tacitus (Agric. 45) 

of Domitian, “ saevus ills vultus et rubor, a quo se contra pu 
dorem muniebat.” 9 Prov. xxviii. 22. 



2. their Obscurity; 3. Meanness of their Employment; 17 

sell it not; and so of wisdom and knowledge ; l judging 
that means were to be spent upon learning, and not 
learning to be applied to means. And as for the 
privateness, or obscureness, (as it may be in vulgar 
estimation accounted) of life of contemplative men; it 
is a theme so common to extol a private life, not taxed 
with sensuality and sloth, in comparison and to the 
disadvantage of a civil life, for safety, liberty, pleasure, 
and dignity, or at least freedom from indignity, as no 
man handleth it but handleth it well; such a consonancy 
it hath to men’s conceits in the expressing, and to 
men’s consents in the allowing. This only I will add, 
that learned men forgotten in states and not living in 
the eyes of men, are like the images of Cassius and 
Brutus in the funeral of Junia : of which not being 
represented as many others were, Tacitus saith, JEo 
ijpso prafulqebant, quod non visebantur . 2 

3. And for meanness of employment, that which is 
most traduced to contempt is that the government of 
youth is commonly allotted to them; which age, 
because it is the age of least authority, it is transferred 
to the disesteeming of those employments wherein 
youth is conversant, and which are conversant about 
youth. But how unjust this traducement is (if you 
will reduce things from popularity of opinion to mea¬ 
sure of reason) may appear in that we see men are 
more curious what they put into a new vessel than 
into a vessel seasoned; and what mould they lay 
about a young plant than about a plant corroborate; 
so as the weakest terms and times of all things use to 
have the best applications and helps. And will you 
hearken to the Hebrew rabbins? Your young men 
shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams? 
say they youth is the worthier age, for that visions are 
nearer apparitions of Grod than dreams ? And let it be 
noted, that howsoever the condition of life of pedants 
hath been scorned upon theatres, as the ape of 
tyranny ; and that the modern looseness or negligence 
hath taken no due regard to the choice of schoolmasters 
and tutors; yet the ancient wisdom of the best times 
did always make a just complaint, that states were too 
busy with their laws and too negligent in point of 
education: which excellent part of ancient discipline 


1 Prov. xxiii. 23. 2 Tac., Ann. iii. 76. ad fin. 3 Joel, ii. 28. 



18 4. Apt to fix too high a Standard of Morals. 

hath been in some sort revived of late times by the 
colleges of the Jesuits ; of whom, although in regard 
of their superstition I may say, Quo meliores, eo 
deteriores; yet in regard of this, and some other points 
concerning human learning and moral matters, I may 
say, as Agesilaus said to his enemy Pharnabazus, Tails 
quum sis, utinam noster esses. A And thus much touching 
the discredits drawn from the fortunes of learned men. 

4. As touching the manners of learned men, it is a 
thing personal and individual: and no doubt there be 
amongst them, as in other professions, of all tempera¬ 
tures : but yet so as it is not without truth, which is 
said, that Aheunt studia in mores,t studies have an 
influence and operation upon the manners of those 
that are conversant in them.} 

But upon an attentive and indifferent review, I for 
my part cannot find any disgrace to learning can 
proceed from the manners of learned men inherent 4 5 
to them as they are learned; except it be a fault 
(which was the supposed fault of Demosthenes, Cicero, 
Cato the second, Seneca, and many moe) that, because 
the times they read of are commonly better than the 
times they live in, and the duties taught better 
than the duties practised, they contend sometimes- too 
far to bring things to perfection, and to reduce the 
corruption of manners to honesty of precepts, or 
examples of too great height. And yet hereof they 
have caveats enough in their own walks. For Solon, 
when he was asked whether he had given his citizens 
the best laws, answered wisely, Yea , of such as they 
would receive : 6 7 and Plato, finding that his own heart 
could not agree with the corrupt manners of his 
country, refused to bear place or office ; saying, That a 
man s country was to he used as his parents were, that 
is, with humble persuasions, and not with contestations J 
And Caesar’s counsellor put in the same caveat, Non 
ad vetera instituta revocans quae jampridem corruptis 

4 Conference of Agesilaus and Pharnabazus. Plut., Vit. Ages. 

5 Yulg. not inherent. I have cancelled the negative, that the 

passage may not be misunderstood. The Lat. Edit, has nullum 
occurrit dedecus Literis ex Litteratorum moribus,quatenus sunt 
literati, adhaerens, which corrects the error whether it came 
from the press, or, as is more likely, the pen. Thus, p. 20, we 
find “ nor never." 6 Plutarch in Vit. Solon. 

7 Plato, Epist. Z. iii. 331, and cf. Epist. r. iii. 310. 



Their Patriotism vindicated. 


19 


moribus ludibrio sunt:* and Cicero noteth this error 
directly in Cato the second, when he writes to his 
friend Atticus ; Cato optime sentit, sed nocet interdum 
reipublicce ; loquitur enim tanquam in reipublicd Pla- 
tonis, non tanquam in fcece Tdomuli? And the same 
Cicero doth excuse and expound the philosophers for 
going too far, and being too exact in their prescripts, 
when he saith, Isti ipsi prceceptores virtutis et magistri, 
videntur fines ofiiciorum paulo longius quam natura 
vellet protulisse, ut cum ad ultimum ammo contendis- 
semus, ibi tamen, ubi oportet, consisteremus .- 1 and yet 
himself might have said, Monitissum minor ipse meis; 2 for 
it was his own fault, though not in so extreme a degree. 

5. Another fault likewise much of this kind hath 
been incident to learned men; whicli is^ that they 
have esteemed the preservation, good, and honour 
of their countries or masters before their own fortunes 
or safeties, j, For so saith Demosthenes unto the 
Athenians ; If it please yon to note it, my counsels unto 
you are not such whereby I should grow great amongst 
you, and you become little amongst the Grecians: but 
they be of that nature, as they are sometimes not good 
for me to give, but are always good for you to follow. 
And so Seneca, after he had consecrated that Quin¬ 
quennium Neronis 3 to the eternal glory of learned 
governors, held on his honest and loyal course of good 
and free counsel, after his master grew extremely 
corrupt in his government. Neither can this point 
otherwise be ;(for learning endueth men’s minds with a 
true sense of the frailty of their persons, the casualty 
of their fortunes, and the dignity of their soul and 
vocation: so that it is impossible for them to esteem 
that any greatness of their own fortune can be a true 
or worthy end of their being and ordainment; and 
therefore are desirous to give their account to God, 
and so likewise to their masters under God (as kings 
and states that they serve) in these words; JEcce tibi 
lucrefeci, and not Ecce mild lucrefeci : 4 whereas, the 

8 Epist. de Rep. <>rd. 9 Cic. ad Att. ii. 1. 

1 Cic. pro Mur. xxxi. 65. 2 Ovid. A. Am. ii. 548. 

3 The first five years of Nero’s reign, during which his evil 
inclinations were somewhat kept in check; less, however, than 
Bacon assumes here. Nor had Seneca much real influence over 
him. The best that can be said for him is, non repente fuit 
turpissimus. 4 Matt. xxv. 20. 

c 2 



20 Their Ingenuousness no Discredit; 

corrupter sort of mere Politiques, that have not their 
thoughts established by learning in the love and 
apprehension of duty, nor never look abroad into uni¬ 
versality, do refer all things to themselves, and thrust 
themselves into the centre of the world, as if all lines 
should meet in them and their fortunes ; never caring 
in all tempests what becomes of the ship of estates, 
so they may save themselves in the cockboat of their 
own fortune: whereas men that feel the weight of 
duty and know the limits of self-love, use to make 
good their places and duties, though with peril; and 
if they stand in seditious and violent alterations, it is 
rather the reverence which many times both adverse 
parts do give to honesty, than any versatile advantage 
of their own carriage. But for this point of tender 
sense and fast obligation of duty which learning doth 
endue the mind withal, howsoever fortune may tax it, 
and many in the depth of their corrupt principles may 
despise it, yet it will receive an open allowance, and 
therefore needs the less disproof or excusation. 

6. Another fault incident commonly to learned men, 
which may be more properly defended than truly 
denied, is, that they fail sometimes in applying them¬ 
selves to particular persons: which want of exact appli¬ 
cation ariseth from two causes; the one, because the 
largeness of their mind can hardly confine itself to 
dwell in the exquisite observation or examination of the 
nature and customs of one person: for it is a speech for 
a lover, and not for a wise man : Satis magnum alter 
alteri theatrum sumus. b Nevertheless I shall yield, 
that he that cannot contract the sight of his mind as 
well as disperse and dilate it, wanteth a great faculty. 
But there is a second cause, which is no inability, but a 
rejection upon choice and judgment. For the honest and 
just bounds of observation by one person upon another, 
extend no farther but to understand him sufficiently, 
whereby not to give him offence, or whereby to be 
able to give him faithful counsel, or whereby to stand 
upon reasonable guard and caution in respect of a man’s 
self. But to be speculative into another man to the end 
to know how to work him, or wind him, or govern him, 
proceedeth from a heart that is double and cloven and 
not entire and ingenuous ; which as in friendship it is 


5 A saying of Epicurus. Vid. Seneca, Epist. Mor. i. 7. 



21 


nor their neglect of trifling Observances. 

want of integrity, so towards princes or superiors is 
want of duty. For tlie custom of the Levant, which is 
that subjects do forbear to gaze or fix their eyes upon 
princes, is in the outward ceremony barbarous, but the 
moral is good: for men ought not by -cunning and bent 
observations to pierce and penetrate into the hearts of 
kings, which the Scripture hath declared to be in¬ 
scrutable. 

7. There is yet another fault (with which I will 
conclude this part) which is often noted in learned 
men, that they do many times fail to observe decency 
and discretion in their behaviour and carriage, and 
commit errors in small and ordinary points of action, 
so as the vulgar sort of capacities'do make a judgment 
of them in greater matters by that which they find 
wanting in. them in smaller. But this consequence 
doth often deceive men, for which I do refer them over 
to that which was said by Themistocles, arrogantly and 
uncivilly being applied to himself out of his own mouth; 
but, being applied to the general state of this question, 
pertinently and justly; when, being invited to touch a 
lute, he said, He could not fiddle , but he could make a 
small town a great state? So, no doubt, many may be 
well seen in the passages of government and policy, 
which are to seek in little and punctual occasions. I 
refer them also to that which Plato said of his master 
Socrates, whom he compared to the gallipots of apothe¬ 
caries, which on the outside had apes and owls and 
antiques but contained within sovereign and precious 
liquors and confections; acknowledging that to an ex¬ 
ternal report he was not without superficial levities and 
deformities, but was inwardly replenished with excellent 
virtues and powers. 6 7 And so much touching the point 
of manners of learned men. 

8. But in the mean time I have no purpose to give 
allowance to some conditions and courses base and un¬ 
worthy, wherein divers professors of learning have 
wronged themselves and gone too far; such as were 
those trencher philosophers which in the later age of 
the Homan state were usually in the houses of great 
persons, being little better than solemn parasites; of 
which kind, Lucian maketh a merry description of the 


6 Plutarch, Fit. Themist., ad init. 

7 Vid. Plat. Conv., iii. 215, and cf. Xen. Symp. v. 7. 



22 


Their Regard to Fortune pardonable. 

philosopher that the great lady took to ride witli her in 
her coach, and would needs have him carry her little 
dog, which he doing officiously and yet uncomely, the 
page scoffed and said, That he doubted, the philosopher 
of a Stoic would turn to be a Cynic? But above all the 
rest, the gross and palpable flattery, whereunto many 
not unlearned have abased and abused their wits ana 
pens, turning, as Du Bartas saith, 8 9 Hecuba into Helena, 
and Faustina into Lucretia, hath most diminished the 
price and estimation of learning. Neither is the 
moral 1 dedication of books and writings, as to patrons, 
to be commended: for that books, such as are worthy 
the name of books, ought to have no patrons but truth 
and reason. And the ancient custom was to dedicate 
them only to private and equal friends, or to entitle 
the books with their names: or if to kings and great 
persons, it was to some such as the argument of the 
book was fit and proper for: but these and the like 
courses may deserve rather reprehension than defence. 

9. Not that I can tax or condemn the morigeration 
or application of learned men to men in fortune. For 
the answer was good that Diogenes made to one that 
asked him in mockery, Jloto it came to pass that phi¬ 
losophers were the followers of rich men, and not rich 
men of philosophers ? He answered soberly, and yet 
• sharply, Because the one sort lenew what they had need, 
of, and the other did not? And of the like nature was 
the answer which Aristippus made, when having a 
petition to Dionysius, and no ear given to him, he fell 
down at his feet; whereupon Dionysius staid, and gave 
him the hearing, and granted it; and afterward some 
person, tender on the behalf of philosophy, reproved 
Aristippus that he would offer the profession of phi¬ 
losophy such an indignity as for a private suit to fall 
at a tyrant’s feet: but he answered, It was not his fault, 
but it was the fault of Dionysius, that had his ears in 
his feet? Neither was it accounted weakness, but dis¬ 
cretion in him that would not dispute his best with 

8 Lucian, de Merc. Cond., 33, 34. 

9 See Belhulian's Rescue, bookv., translated by J.Sylvester,1614. 

1 Vulg. modern, but the editions of 1005 and 1033 both have 
moral, which I have therefore restored to the text. The Latin 
edition has morem ilium receptum. The word is used in the 
sense of customary. 

2 Laert. Vit. Arislippi, ii. 69. 3 Ibid. ii. 79. 



Vanities of Scholars, as such; 1. Pedantry ; 23 

Adrianus Caesar; excusing himself, That it was reason 
to yield to him that commanded thirty legions . 4 These 
and the like applications, and stooping to points of 
necessity and convenience, cannot he disallowed; for 
though they may have some outward baseness, yet in a 
judgment truly made they are to be accounted sub¬ 
missions to the occasion, and not to the person. 

IV. 1. Now I proceed to those errors H 
andvanities which have intervened amongst °jlf 16 <■ 

the studies themselves of the learned 
which is that which is prmcipal and / iave dis- 
proper to the present argument; wherein honoured 
my purpose is not to make a justification Learning. 
of the errors, but by a censure and sepa¬ 
ration of the errors to make a justification of that 
which is good and sound, and to deliver that from the 
aspersion of the other. For we see that it is the 
manner of men to scandalize and deprave that which 
retaineth the state 5 and virtue, by taking advantage 
upon that which is corrupt and degenerate: as the 
heathens in the primitive church used to blemish and 
taint the Christians with the faults and corruptions of 
heretics. But nevertheless I have no meaning at this 
time to make any exact animadversion of the errors 
and impediments in matters of learning, which are 
more secret and remote from vulgar opinion, but only 
to speak unto such as do fall under or near unto a 
popular observation. 

2. There be therefore chicflytjiree vanities in studies, ■ 
whereby learning hath been most traduced. For those 
things we do esteem vain, which are either false or 
frivolous, those which either have no truth or no use: 
and those persons we esteem vain, which are either 
credulous or curious; and curiosity is either in matter 
or words: so that in reason, as well as in experience, 
there fall out to be these three distempers, as I may 
term them, of learning: the first, fantastical learning; 
the second, contentious learning; and the last, delicate 
learning; vain imaginations, vain altercations, and vain 
affectations; and with the last I will begin. Martin 
Luther, conducted no doubt by a higher providence, but 


4 Spartianus, Vit. Adriani, § 15. The excuse was made by 
Favorinus. 

5 i. e. its original, or uncorrupted, state. 



24 


Style regarded more than Matter. 

in discourse of reason, 6 finding wliat a province lie had 
undertaken against the bishop of Rome and the de¬ 
generate traditions of the church, and finding his own 
solitude, being no ways aided by the opinions of his 
own time, was enforced to awake all antiquity, and to 
call former times to his succours to make a party 
against the present time. So that the ancient authors, 
both in divinity and in humanity, which had long time 
slept in libraries, began generally to be read and re¬ 
volved. This by consequence did draw on a necessity 
of a more exquisite travail in the languages original, 
wherein those authors did write, for the better under¬ 
standing of those authors, and the better advantage of 
pressing and applying their words. And thereof grew 
again a delight in their manner of style and phrase, and 
an admiration of that kind of writing; which was much 
furthered and precipitated by the enmity and opposi¬ 
tion that the propounders of those primitive but seem¬ 
ing new opinions had against the schoolmen; who 
were generally of the contrary part, and whose writings 
were altogether in a different style and form; taking 
liberty to coin and frame new terms of art to express 
their own sense, and to avoid circuit of speech, without 
regard to the pureness, pleasantness, and, as I may call 
it, lawfulness of the phrase or word. And again, because 
the great labour that then was with the people, (of 
whom the Pharisees were wont to say, Execralnlis ista 
turba, quce non novit legem),l for the winning and per¬ 
suading of them, there grew of necessity in chief price 
and request eloquence and variety of discourse, as the 
fittest and forciblest access into the capacity of the 
vulgar sort: so that these four causes concurring, the 
(admiration of ancient authors, the hate of the school¬ 
men, the exact study of languages, and the efficacy of 
preaching, did bring in an affectionate study of elo¬ 
quence and copie of speech, which then began to flourish. 
This grew speedily to an excess; for men began to hunt 
more after words than matter; ynore after the choice¬ 
ness of the phrase, and the rbund and clean com¬ 
position of the sentence, and the sweet falling of the 


6 Compare Milton, Par. Lost, v. 486, seq. ; and see Coleridge, 
Aids to Reflection, p. 157, On the Difference in Kind of Reason 
and the Understanding —where the expression is explained. 

-' Joh. vii. 49. 



25 


Grace of Style yet not without Value. 

clauses, and the varying and illustration of their works 
with tropes and figures, than after the weight of matter, 
worth of subject, soundness of argument, life of inven¬ 
tion or depth of judgment. Then grew the flowing 
and watery vein of Orosius s the Portugal bishop, to be 
in price. Then did Sturmius spend such infinite and 
curious pains upon Cicero the Orator, and Hermogenes 
the Rhetorician, besides his own books of Periods and 
Imitation, and the like. Then did Car of Cambridge, 
and Ascham with their lectures and writings almost 
deify Cicero and Demosthenes, and allure all young 
men that were studious, unto that delicate and polished 
kind of learning. Then did Erasmus take occasion to 
make the scoffing Echo: Decern annos consumpsi in 
legendo Cicerone; and the Echo answered in Greek, 
Ove Asine. 8 9 Then grew the learning of the schoolmen 
to be utterly despised as barbarous. In sum, the whole 
inclination and bent of those times was rather towards 
copie than weight. 

3. Here, therefore, is the first distemper of learning, 
when men study words and not matter; \ whereof, 
though I have represented an example of late iimes, yet 
it hath been and will be secundum majus et minus 
in all time. And how is it possible but this should 
have an operation to discredi t learning, even with 
vulgar ‘capacities, when they see learned men’s works 
like the first letter of a patent, or limned book; which 
though it hath large flourishes, yet it is but a letter ? 
It seems to me that Pygmalion’s frenzy is a good 
emblem or portraiture of this vanity: 1 for words are but 
the images of matter; and except they have life of 
reason and invention, to fall in love with them is all 
one as to fall in love with a picture. 

But yet notwithstanding it is a thing not hastily 
to be condemned, to clothe and adorn the obscurity 
even of philosophy itself with sensible and plausible 
elocution. Eor hereof we have great examples in 


8 All the edd. have Osorius, which, however, must be a mere 
misprint. He was not a Portuguese, but a Spaniard, born at 
Tarragona, nor indeed ever a bishop. He was sent by St. 
Augustine on a mission to Jerusalem, and is supposed to have 
died in Africa in the earlier part of the fifth century. 

9 Colloq. between Juvenis and Echo (p.459, Elz.) 

1 Vid. Ovid., Metam. x. 243. 



26 2. Indulgence in fanciful Speculations; 

Xenophon, Cicero, Seneca, Plutarch, and of Plato also 
in some degree; and hereof likewise there is great 
use: for surely, to the severe inquisition of truth and 
the deep progress into philosophy, it is some hind¬ 
rance ; because it is too early satisfactory to the mind 
of man, and quencheth the desire of further search, 
before we come to a just period. But then if a man be 
to have any use of such knowledge in civil occasions, 
of conference, counsel, persuasion, discourse, or the 
like; then shall he find it prepared to his hands in 
those authors which write in that manner. But the 
excess of this is so justly contemptible, that as Her¬ 
cules, when he saw the image of Adonis, Venus’ minion, 
in a temple, said in disdain, Nil sacri es; so there is 
none of Hercules’ followers in learning, that is, the 
more severe and laborious sort of inquirers into truth, 
but will despise those delicacies and affectations, as 
indeed capable of no divineness. And thus much of 
the first disease or distemper of learning. 

4. The second which followeth is in nature worse 
than the former: for as substance of matter is better 
than beauty of words, so contrariwise vain matter is 
worse than vain words : wherein it seemeth the repre¬ 
hension of St. Paul was not only proper for those 
times, but prophetical for the times following ; and not 
only respective to divinity, but extensive to all know¬ 
ledge : JDevita prof anas vocum novitates, et oppositiones 
falsi nominis scientice . 2 For he assigneth two marks 
and badges of suspected and falsified science : the one, 
the novelty and strangeness of terms; the other, the 
strictness of positions, which of necessity doth induce 
oppositions, and so questions and altercations. Surely, 
like as many substances in nature which are solid do 
putrify and corrupt into worms; so it is the property 
of good and sound knowledge to putrify and dissolve 
into a number of subtle, idle, unwholesome, and, as I 
may term them, vermieulate questions, which have 
indeed a kind of quickness and life of spirit, but no 
soundness of matter or goodness of quality. This 
kind of degenerate learning did chiefly reign amongst 
the schoolmen: who having sharp and strong wits, 
and abundance of leisure, and small variety of reading, 
but their wits being shut up in the cells of a few 


2 1 Tim. vi. 20. 



whether in the Subject , or in the Method of handling it. 27 

authors (chiefly Aristotle their dictator) as their persons 
were shut up in the cells of monasteries and colleges, 
and knowing little history, either of nature or time, 
did out of no great quantity of matter and infinite 
agitation of wit spin out unto us those laborious webs 
of learning which are extant in their books. * 3 For the 
wit and mind of man, if it work upon matter, which is 
the contemplation of the creatures of God, worketh 
according to the stuff, and is limited thereby; but if it 
work upon itself, as the spider worketh his web, then 
it is endless, and brings forth indeed cobwebs of 
learning, admirable for the fineness of thread and 
work, but of no substance or profit. 

5. This same unprofitable subtilty or curiosity is of 
two sorts ; either in the subject itself that they handle, 
when it is a fruitless speculation or controversy, 
(whereof there are no small number both in divinity 
and philosophy) or in the manner or method of handling 
of a knowledge, which amongst them was this; upon 
every particular position or assertion to frame objec¬ 
tions, and to those objections, solutions; which solu¬ 
tions were for the most part not confutations, but 
distinctions : whereas indeed the strength of all sciences 
is, as the strength of the old man’s fagot, in the band. 
For the harmony of a science, supporting each part 
the other, is and ought to be the true and brief con¬ 
futation and suppression of all the smaller sort of 
objections. But, on the other side, if you take out 
every axiom, as the sticks of the fagot, one by one, 
you may quarrel with them, and bend them, and break 
them at your pleasure : so that, as was said of Seneca, 
Verborum minuiiis rerum frangit jpondera ; 4 so a man 
may truly say of the schoolmen, Qucestionum minutiis 
scientiarum frangunt soliditatem. For were it not 
better for a man in a fair room to set up one great 
light, or branching candlestick of lights, than to go 
about with a small watch candle into every corner? 
And such is their method, that rests not so much upon 
evidence of truth proved by arguments, authorities, 
similitudes, examples, as upon particular confutations 
and solutions of every scruple, eavillation, and objec- 


8 For an account of the Schoolmen, see Hampden’s Hampton 

Lectures , preached at Oxford 1882. 

4 Rerum pondera minutissimis sententiis fregit.— Quint, de 
Tast. Oral., v 1 



28 Chiefly found in the Subtilties of the Schoolmen. 

tion; breeding for the most part one question as fast 
as it solveth another; even as in the former resem¬ 
blance, when you carry the light into one corner, you 
darken the rest; so that the fable and fiction of Scylla 
seemeth to be a lively image of this kind of philosophy 
or knowledge ; which was transformed into a comely 
virgin for the upper parts ; but then Candida succinctam 
latrantihus inguina monstris : 5 so the generalities of the 
schoolmen are for a while good and proportionable; 
but then, when you descend into their distinctions and 
decisions, instead of a fruitful womb for the use and 
benefit of man’s life, they end in monstrous altercations 
and barking questions. So as it is not possible but 
this quality of knowledge must fall under popular 
contempt, the people being apt to contemn truth upon 
occasion of controversies and altercations, and to think 
they are all out of their way Tthich never meet; and 
when they see such digladiation about subtilties, and 
matters of no use or moment, they easily fall upon 
that judgment of Dionysius of Syracuse, Verba ista 
sunt senum otiosorum . 6 

Notwithstanding, certain it is that if those school¬ 
men to their great thirst of truth and unwearied travail 
of wit had joined variety and universality of reading 
and contemplation, they had proved excellent lights, to 
the great advancement of all learning and knowledge ; 
but as they are, they are great undertakers indeed, and 
fierce with dark keeping: but as in the inquiry of the 
divine truth, their pride inclined to leave the oracle of 
God’s word, and to vanish in the mixture of their own 
inventions; so in the inquisition of nature, they ever 
left the oracle of God’s works, and adored the deceiving 
and deformed images which the unequal mirror of 
their own minds, or a few received authors or prin¬ 
ciples, did represent unto them. And thus much for 
the second disease of learning. 

6. For the third vice or disease of learning, which 
concerneth deceit or untruth, it is of all the rest the 
foulest; as that which doth destroy the essential form 
of knowledge, which is nothing but a representation 
of truth: for the truth of being and the truth of 
knowing are one, differing no more than the direct 
beam and the beam reflected. This vice therefore 


* Virg., Eel. vi. 75. 


6 Diog. Laert., iii. 18. ( Vit . Platonis.) 



3. Want of Truthfulness combined with Credulity. 29 

branclietli itself into two sorts; delight in deceiving, 
and aptness to be deceived; imposture and credulity ; 
which, although they appear to be of a diverse nature, 
the one seeming to proceed of cunning and the other 
of simplicity, yet certainly they do for the most part 
concur : for, as the verse noteth, 

Percontatorem t'ugito, nam garrulus idem est, 7 

an inquisitive man is a prattler; so, upon the like 
reason, a credulous man is a deceiver: as we see 
it in fame, that he that will easily believe rumours, will 
as easily augment rumours, and add somewhat to them 
of his own; which Tacitus wisely noteth, when he 
saith, Fingunt simul creduntque : 8 so great an affinity 
hath fiction and belief. 

7. This facility of credit and accepting or admitting 
things weakly authorized or warranted, is of two kinds 
according to the subject: for it is either a belief of 
history, or, as the lawyers speak, matter of fact; or 
else of matter of art and opinion. As to the former, 
we see the experience and inconvenience of this error 
in ecclesiastical history; which hath too easily received 
and registered reports and narrations of miracles 
wrought by martyrs, hermits, or monks of the desert, 
and other holy men, and their relics, shrines, chapels, 
and images: which though they had a passage for a 
time by the ignorance of the people, the superstitious 
simplicity of some, and the politic toleration of others 
holding them but as divine poesies; yet after a period 
of time, when the mist began to clear up, they grew to 
be esteemed but as old wives’ fables, impostures of the 
clergy, illusions of spirits, and badges of Antichrist, to 
the great scandal and detriment of religion. 

8. So in natural history, we see there hath not been 
that choice and judgment used as ought to have been; 
as may appear in the writings of Plinius, Cardanus, 
Albertus, and divers of the Arabians, being fraught 
with much fabulous matter, a great part not only un¬ 
tried, but notoriously untrue, to the great derogation 
of the credit of natural philosophy with the grave and 
sober kind of wits : wherein the wisdom and integrity 
of Aristotle is worthy to be observed; that, having 
made so diligent and exquisite a history of living 
creatures, hath mingled it sparingly with any vain or 


7 Hor., Ep. 1. xviii. 69. 


8 Tac., Hist. i. 51. 



30 


Cultivation of vain Arts; 

feigned matter: and yet on the other sake, 9 hath cast 
all prodigious narrations, which he thought worthy 
the recording, into one book d excellently discerning 
that matter of manifest truth (such whereupon obser¬ 
vation and rule were to be built,) was not to be mingled 
or weakened with matter of doubtful credit; and yet 
again, that rarities and reports that seem incredible are 
not to be suppressed or denied to the memory of men. 

9. And as for the facility of credit which is yielded 
to arts and opinions, it is likewise of two kinds; either 
when too much belief is attributed to the arts them¬ 
selves, or to certain authors in any art. The sciences 
themselves, which have had better intelligence and 
confederacy with the imagination of man than with his 
reason, are three in number; astrology, natural magic, 
and alchemy: of which sciences, nevertheless, the ends 
or pretences are noble. For astrology pretendeth to 
discover that correspondence or concatenation which 
is between the superior globe and the inferior: natural 
magic pretendeth to call and reduce natural philosophy 
from variety of speculations to the magnitude of works: 
and alchemy pretendeth to make separation of all the 
unlike parts of bodies which in mixtures of nature are 
incorporate. But the derivations and prosecutions to 
these ends, both in the theories and in the practices, i 
are full of error and vanity; which the great profes¬ 
sors themselves have sought to veil over and conceal 
by enigmatical writings, and referring themselves to 
auricular traditions and such other devices, to save the 
credit of impostures: and yet surely to alchemy this 
right is due, that it may be compared to the husband¬ 
man whereof iEsop makes the fable; that, -when he 
died, told his sons that he had left unto them gold 
buried under ground in his vineyard; and they digged 
over all the ground, and gold they found none; but 
bv reason of their stirring and digging the mould 
about the roots of their vines, they had a great vintage 
the year following; so assuredly the search and stir 
to make gold hath brought to light a great number of 
good and fruitful inventions and experiments, as w r ell 
for the disclosing of nature as for the use of man’s life.) 

0 Usually printed side; but the editions of 1005 and 1633 
both have sake. 

1 Qavfiaoia ’AKOvcpara. 



31 


and unreasonable Deference to great Names. 

10. And as for the overmuch credit that hath been 
given unto authors in sciences, in making them dic¬ 
tators, that their words should stand, and not counsels 
to give advice; the damage is infinite that sciences 
have received thereby, as the principal cause that hath 
kept them low at a stay without growth or advance¬ 
ment. Tor hence it hath come, that in arts mechanical 
the first deviser comes shortest, and time addeth and 
perfecteth; but in sciences the first author goeth 
farthest, and time leeseth and corrupteth. So we see, 
artillery, sailing, printing, and the like, were grossly 
managed at the first, and by time accommodated and 
refined: but contrariwise, the philosophies and sciences 
of Aristotle, Plato, Democritus, Hippocrates, Euclides, 
Archimedes, of most vigour at the first and by time de¬ 
generate and imbased; whereof the reason is no other, 
but that in the former many wits and industries have con¬ 
tributed in one; and in the latter many wits and indus¬ 
tries have been spent about the wit of some one, whom 
many times they have rather depraved than illustrated. 
Eor as watei^Jaiill not ascend liigher than the level of 
the first springhead from whence it descendeth, so 
knowledge derived from Aristotle, and exempted from 
liberty of examination, will not rise again higher than 
the knowledge of Aristotle.^And therefore although 
the position be good, Ojporiet discentem credere? jet 
it must be coupled with this, Oportet edoctumjudicare ; 
for disciples do owe unto masters only a temporary 
belief and a suspension of their own judgment until 
they be fully instructed, and not an absolute resigna¬ 
tion or perpetual captivity : and therefore, to conclude 
this point, I will say no more, but so let great authors 
have their due, as time, which is the author of authors, 
be not deprived of his due, which is, further and 
further to discover truth. 

V. 1. Thus have I gone over these o//ter errors 
three diseases of learning; besides the of Learned 
which there are some other rather pec- Men which 
cant humours than formed diseases: mar the pro- 
which nevertheless are not so secret and gress and 
intrinsic but that they fall under a popu- credit of 
lar observation and traducement, and Learning. 
therefore are not to be passed over. 


2 Aristot. Soph. El. 2. (Bekk.) 



32 Affectation of Antiquity or 'Novelty ; Distrust of the Future. 

The first of these is the extreme affecting of two 
extremities; the one antiquity, the other novelty; 
wherein it seemeth the children of time do take after 
the nature and malice of the father. For as he de- 
voureth his children, so one of them seeketh to devour 
and suppress the other ; while antiquity envieth there 
should be new additions, and novelty cannot be con¬ 
tent to add but it must deface : surely the advice of the 
prophet is the true direction in this matter, State super 
vias antiquas, et videte qucenam sit via recta et bona 
et ambulate in ea? Antiquity deserveth that reverence, 
that men should make a stand thereupon and discover 
what is the best way; but when the discovery is well 
taken, then to make progression. And to speak truly, 
Antiquitas sceculi juventus mundi. These times are 
the ancient times, when the world is ancient, and not 
those which we account ancient ordine retrogrado, by 
a computation backward from ourselves. 

2. Another error induced by the former is a distrust 
that anything should be now to be found out, which 
the world should have missed and passed over so long 
time; as if the same objection were to be made to time, 
that Lucian maketh to Jupiter and other the heathen 
gods ; of which he wondereth that they begot so many 
children in old time, and begot none in his time ; and 
asketh whether they were become septuagenary, or 
whether the law Papia, made against old men’s mar¬ 
riages, had restrained them. 3 4 5 So it seemeth men doubt 
lest time is become past children and generation; 
wherein, contrariwise, we see commonly the levity and 
inconstancy of men’s judgments, which till a matter 
be done, wonder that it can be done; and as soon as 
it is done, wonder again that it was no sooner done : 
as we see in the expedition of Alexander into Asia, 
which at first was prejudged as a vast and impossible 
enterprise; and yet afterwards it pleaseth Livy to 
make no more of it than this: Nil aliud quam bene 
ausus vana contemnere : b and the same happened to 
Columbus in the western navigation. But in intellec¬ 
tual matters it is much more common; as may be seen 
in most of the propositions of Euclid f which till they 


3 Jerem. vi. 16. 

4 Ascribed to Seneca aj>. Lad., Instit. i. 26, 13. 

5 Livy ix. 17., 



Various Hindrances to the Growth of Knowledge. 33 

be demonstrate, they seem strange to onr assent; but 
being demonstrate, our mind accepteth of them by a 
kind" of relation (as the lawyers speak,) as if we had 
known them before. 

3. Another error, that hath also some affinity with 
the former, is a conceit that of former opinions or 
sects after variety and examination the best hath still 
prevailed and suppressed the rest; so as, if a man 
should begin the labour of a new search, he were but 
like to light upon somewhat formerly rejected, and by 
rejection brought into oblivion : as if the multitu de, or 
the wisest for the multitude’s sake, were hot ready to 
give passage rather to that which is popular and super¬ 
ficial, than to that which is substantial and profound; 
for the truth is, that time seemetli to be of the nature 
of a river or stream, which carrieth down to us that 
which is light and blown up, and sinketh and drowneth 
that which is weighty and solid. 

4. Another error, of a diverse nature from all the 
former, is the over early and peremptory reduction of 
knowledge into arts and methods; from which time 
commonly sciences receive small or no augmentation. 
But as young men, when they knit and shape perfectly, 
do seldom grow to a further stature; so knowledge, 
while it is in aphorisms mid observations, it is in 
growth : dmt when it once is comprehended in exact 
methods, it may perchance be further polished and 
illustrated and accommodated for use and practice; 
but it increaseth no more in bulk and substance. 

5. Another error which doth succeed that which 
we last mentioned, is, that after the distribution of 
particular arts and sciences, men have abandoned 
universality, or johilosojphia jprima : which cannot but 
cease and stop all progression. For no perfect dis¬ 
covery can be made upon a flat or a level: neither is it 
{possible to discover the more remote and deeper parts 

bf any science, if you stand bnt upon the level of the 
same science, and ascend not to a higher science. 

6. Another error hath proceeded from too great a 
reverence, and a kind of adoration of the mind and 
understanding of man; by means whereof, men have 
(withdrawn themselves too much from the contemplation 
of nature, and the observations of experience,-and have 
tumbled up and down in their own reason and conceits. 
Upon these intellectualists, which are notwithstanding 






34 The Human Intellect overrated; Impatience of Doubt ; 

commonly taken for tlie most sublime and divine 
philosophers, Heraclitus gave a just censure, saying, j 
Men sought truth in their oivn little worlds , and not in 
the great and common world ; 6 7 for they disdain to spell, 
and so by degrees to read in the volume of God’s 
works: and contrariwise by continual meditation and 
agitation of wit do urge and as it were invocate their 1 
own spirits to divine, and give oracles unto them, 
whereby they are deservedly deluded. _ j 

7. Another error that hath some connexion with j 

this latter, is, Jthat men have used to infect their 
meditations, opinions, and doctrines, with some conceits 
which they have most admired, or some sciences which 
they have most applied; and given all things else a ; 
tincture according to them, utterly untrue and im¬ 
proper. | So hath Plato intermingled his philosophy j 
with theology, and Aristotle with logic; and the second 
school of Plato, Proclus and the rest, with the mathe- I 
matics. Por these were the arts which had a kind of 
primogeniture with them severally. So have the 
alchymists made a philosophy out of a fe\y experiments 
of the furnace; and Gilbertus, 7 our countryman, hath 
made a philosophy out of the observations of a load¬ 
stone. So Cicero, when reciting the several opinions 
of the nature of the soul he found a musician that 
held the soul was but a harmony, saith pleasantly, Sic 
ah arte sua non recessit, Sfc . 8 But of these conceits 

Aristotle speaketh seriously and wisely, when he saith, 
Qui respiciunt adpauca de facili pronunciant. 

8. Another error is an impatience of doubt, and 
haste to assertion without due and mature suspension of 
judgment. Por the two ways of contemplation are not 
unlike the two ways of action commonly spoken of by 
the ancients; the one plain and smooth in the begin- 
ning, and in the end impassable ; the other rough and; 
troublesome in the entrance, but after a while fair and 
even : | so it is in contemplation; if a man will begin j j 
with certainties, he shall end in doubts ; but if he will ; I 
be contept to begin with doubts, he shall end in cer-J 
tainties.f 

9. Another error is in the manner of the tradition 


6 Ap. Sext. Erapir. adv. Math. vii. 133. 

7 The book alluded to is Gilbertus de Magnete. Loud. 1600. 

8 Tuscul. Disp. i. x. 20. He is speaking of Aristoxenus. 




Peremptory Assertion; Unworthy Views; 35 

and delivery of knowledge, which is for the most part 
magistral and peremptory, and not ingenuous and 
faithful; in a sort as may be soonest believed, and not 
easiliest examined. It is true, that in compendious 
treatises for practice that form is not to be disallowed: 
but in the true handling of knowledge, men ought not 
to fall either on the one side into the vein of Velleius 
the Epicurean: Nil tam metuens, quarn ne dubitare 
aliqua de re videretur : 9 nor on the other side into 
Socrates his ironical doubting of all things f'but to pro¬ 
pound things sincerely with more or less asseveration, 
as they stand in a man’s own judgment proved more 
or less. | 

10. Other errors there are in the scope that men 
propound to themselves, whereunto they bend their 
endeavours; for whereas the more constant and de¬ 
vout kind of professors of any science ought to pro¬ 
pound to themselves to make some additions to their 
science, they convert their labours to aspire to certain 
second prizes : as to be a profound interpreter or com- 
menter, to be a sharp champion or defender, to be a 
methodical compounder or abridger, and so the patri¬ 
mony of knowledge cometh to be sometimes improved, 
but seldom augmented. 

11. But the greatest error of all the rest is the mis¬ 
taking or misplacing of the last or furthest end of 
knowledge:) for men have entered into a desire of 
learning and knowledge, sometimes upon a natural 
curiosity and inquisitive appetite ; sometimes to enter¬ 
tain their minds with variety and delight; sometimes 
for ornament and reputation; and sometimes to enable 
them to victory of wit and contradiction; and most 
times for lucre and profession; and seldom sincerely 
to give a true account of their gift of reason, to the 
benefit and use of men: as if there were sought in 
knowledge a couch whereupon to rest a searching and 
restless spirit; or a tarrasse for a wandering and 
variable mind to walk up and down with a fair prospect; 
or a tower of state, for a proud mind to raise itself 
upon; or a fort or commanding ground, for strife and 
contention; or a shop, for profit or sale; and not a 
rich storehouse for the glory of the Creator and the 
relief of man’s estate. But this is that which will 


9 Cic. De Nat. Deor. 1. viii. 18. 
D 2 



36 Lastly , blindness to the True end of Learning. 

indeed dignify and exalt knowledge, if contemplation 
and action may be more nearly and straitly conjoined 
and united together than they have been; a conjunc¬ 
tion like unto that of the two highest planets, Saturn, 
the planet of rest and contemplation, and Jupiter, the 
planet of civil society and action: howbeit, I do not 
mean, when I speak of use and action, that end before- 
mentioned of the applying of knowledge to lucre and 
profession; for I am not ignorant how much that 
diverteth and interrupteth the prosecution and advance¬ 
ment of knowledge, like unto the golden ball thrown 
before Atalanta, which while she goeth aside and 
stoopeth to take up, the race is hindered f 

Declinat cursus, aurumque volubile tollit. 1 

12. Neither is my meaning, as was spoken of So¬ 
crates, to call philosophy down from heaven to converse 
upon the earth ; 2 that is, to leave natural philosophy 
aside, and to apply knowledge only to manners and 
policy. But as both heaven and earth do conspire 
and contribute to the use and benefit of man; so the 
end ought to be, from both philosophies to separate and 
reject vain speculations, and whatsoever is empty and 
void, and to preserve and augment whatsoever is solid 
and fruitful: that knowledge may not be, as a curtesan, 
for pleasure and vanity only, or as a bond-woman, to 
acquire and gain to her master’s use; but as a spouse, 
for generation, fruit, and comfort. 

Thus have I described and opened, as by a kind of 
dissection, those peccant humours, (the principal of 
them,) which have not only given impediment to the 
proficience of learning, but have given also occasion to 
the traducement thereof: wherein if I have been too 
plain, it must be remembered, jidelia vulnera amantis , 
sed dolosa oscula malignantis? This, I think, I have 
gained, that I ought to be the better believed in that 
which I shall say pertaining to commendation; because 
I have proceeded so freely in that which concerneth 
censure. And yet I have no purpose to enter into a 
laudative of learning, or to make a hymn to the Muses ; 
(though I am of opinion that it is long since their rites 
were duly celebrated:) but my intent is, without var¬ 
nish or amplification justly to weigh the dignity of 


1 Ovid. Metam. x. 667. 2 Cic. Tusc. Disp.v. 4, 10. 

3 Prov. xxvii. 6. 



37 


All Knowledge springs from God. 

knowledge in the balance with other things, and to 
take the true value thereof by testimonies and argu¬ 
ments divine and human. 

VI. First therefore let us seek the j) v - ine 
dignity of Knowledge in tbe archetype Zfiofthe 
or first platform, which is m the attn- Dignity of 
butes and acts of God, as far as they are Knowledge. 
revealed to man and may be observed 
with sobriety; wherein we may not seek it by the 
name of Learning; for all Learning is Knowledge ac¬ 
quired, \and all Knowledge in God is original ; and 
therefore we must look for it by another name, that of 
Wisdom or Sapience, as the Scriptures call it. 

It is so then, that in the work of the creation we 
see a double emanation of Virtue from God; the one 
referring more properly to Power, the other to Wis¬ 
dom ; 4 the one expressed in making the subsistence of 
the matter, and the other in disposing the beauty of 
the form. This being supposed, it is to be observed 
that for anything which appeareth in the history of the 
creation, the confused mass and matter of Heaven and 
Earth was made in a moment; and the order and dis¬ 
position of that chaos or mass was the work of six 
days; such a note of difference it pleased God to put 
upon the works of Power, and the works of Wisdom ; 
wherewith concurreth, that in the former it is not set 
down that God said, Let there be heaven and earth , as 
it is set down of the works following; but actually, 
that God made Heaven and Earth: the one carrying 
the style of a Manufacture, and the other of a Law, 
Decree, or Counsel. 

2. To proceed to that which is next in order from 
God to Spirits; we find, as far as credit is to be given 
to the celestial hierarchy of that supposed Dionysius 
the senator of Athens, the first place or degree is given 
to the angels of Love, which are termed Seraphim ; the 
second to the angels of Light, which are termed Cheru¬ 
bim ; and the third, and so following places, to Thrones, 
Principalities, and the rest, which are all angels of 
power and ministry { so as the angels of Knowledge 
and Illumination are placed before the angels of Office 
and Domination. 5 

3. To descend from Spirits and Intellectual Forms to 


4 Compare Hooker, v. 56. 5. 5 Vid. Dionys. Hierarch. 7, 8, 0. 



38 Witness of Scripture to the Dignity of Knowledge; 

Sensible and Material Forms; we read the first Form 
that was created was Light, 6 which hath a relation and 
correspondence in nature and corporal things to Know¬ 
ledge in Spirits and incorporal things. 

So in the distribution of days we see the day 
wherein God did rest and contemplate His own worts, 
was blessed above all the days wherein He did effect 
and accomplish them. 7 

4. After the creation was finished, it is set down unto 
us that man was placed in the garden to work therein; 
which work, so appointed to him, could be no other 
than work of Contemplation; that is, when the end of 
work is but for exercise and experiment, not for neces¬ 
sity ; for there being then no reluctation of the crea¬ 
ture, nor sweat of the brow, man’s employment must 
of consequence have been matter of delight in the 
experiment, and not matter of labour for the use. 
Again, the first acts which man performed in Paradise 
consisted of the two summary parts of knowledge ; the 
view of creatures, and the imposition of names. 8 As 
for the knowledge which induced the fall, it was, as 
was touched before, not the natural knowledge of crea¬ 
tures, but the moral knowledge of good and evil; 
wherein the supposition was, that God’s commandments 
or prohibitions were not the originals of good and evil, 
but that they had other beginnings, which man aspired 
to know; to the end to make a total defection from 
God and to depend wholly upon himself. 

5. To pass on: in the first event or occurrence 
after the fall of man, we see, (as the Scriptures have 
infinite mysteries, not violating at all the truth of the 
s ory or letter,) an image of the two estates, the con¬ 
templative state and the active state, figured in the 
two persons of Abel and Cain, and in the two simplest 
and most primitive trades of life ; that of the shepherd, 
(who, by reason of his leisure, rest in a place, and 
living in view of heaven, is a lively image of a contem¬ 
plative life,) and that of the husbandman : 9 ' where we 
see again the favour and election of God went to the 
shepherd, andnot to the tiller of the ground., 

6. So in the age before the flood, the holy records 
within those few memorials which are there entered 
and registered, have vouchsafed to mention and honour 


6 Gen. i. 3. 


7 Gen. ii. 3. 


8 Gen. ii. 19. 


9 Gen. iv. 2. 



39 


Learning of Moses and Job ; 

the name of the inventors and authors of music and 
works in metal. 1 In the age after the flood, the first 
great j udgment of God upon the ambition of man was 
the confusion of tongues ; 2 whereby the open trade 
and intercourse of learning and knowledge was chiefly 
imbarred. 

7. To descend to Moses the lawgiver, and God’s first 
pen : he is adorned by the Scriptures with this addition 
and commendation, That he was seen in all the learning 
of the Egyptians ; 3 which nation, we know, was one of 
the most ancient schools of the world: for so Plato 
brings in the Egyptian priest saying unto Solon: You 
Grecians are ever children ; you have no Icnowledge of 
antiquity, nor antiquity of knowledge . 4 Take a view of 
the ceremonial law of Moses; you shall find, besides 
the prefiguration of Christ, the badge or difference of the 
people of God, the exercise and impression of obedience, 
and other divine uses and fruits thereof, that some of the 
most learned Rabbins have travailed profitably and pro¬ 
foundly to observe, some of them a natural, some of them 
a moral sense, or reduction of many of the ceremonies 
and ordinances. As in the law of the leprosy, where 
it is said, If the whiteness have overspread the flesh, the 
patient may pass abroad for clean ; but if there be any 
ichole flesh remaining, he is to be shut up for unclean ;° 
one of them noteth a principle of nature, that putrefac¬ 
tion is more contagious before maturity than after: 
and another noteth a position of moral philosophy, 
that men abandoned to vice do not so much corrupt 
manners, as those that are half good and half evil. So 
in this and very many other places in that law, there is 
to be found, besides the theological sense, much asper¬ 
sion of philosophy. 

8. So likewise in that excellent book of Job, if it be 
revolved with diligence, it will be found pregnant and 
swelling with natural philosophy; as for example, 
cosmography, and the roundness of the world, Qui 
extendit aquilonem super vacuum, et appendit terrarn 
super nihilum ; wherein the pensileness of the earth, 
the pole of the north, and the finiteness or convexity of 
heaven are manifestly touched. So again, matter of 
astronomy; Spiritus ejus ornavit ccelos, et obstetricante 


i Gen. iv.21,22. 2 Gen.xi. 

5 Act. Ap. vii. 22. 4 Plat. Tim. iii. 22. 5 Levit. xiii. 12-14. 



40 Of King Solomon; 

manu ejus eductus est coluber tortuosus. 6 And in 
another place; Nunquid conjungere valebis micantes 
stellas Pleiadas , aut gyrum Arcturi poteris dissipare ? 7 
Where- the fixing of the stars, ever standing at equal 
distance, is with great elegancy noted. And in another 
place, Qui facit Arcturum, et Oriona, et Hyadas, et 
interiora Austri; 8 where again he takes knowledge of 
the depression of the southern pole, calling it the ' 
secrets of the south, because the southern stars were in 
that climate unseen. Matter of generation; Annon 
sicut lac mulsisti me, et sicut caseum coagulasti me? k 
&c. 9 Matter of minerals ; Habet argentum venarum 1 
suarum principia : et auro locus est in quo conjlatur , "■ 
ferrum de terra tollitur, et lapis solutus calore in ces 
vertitur .- * 1 and so forwards in that chapter. 

9. So likewise in the person of Solomon the King, 
we see the gift or endowment of wisdom and learning, 
both in Solomon’s petition and in God’s assent there¬ 
unto, preferred before all other terrene and temporal 
felicity. 2 By virtue of which grant or donative of God 
Solomon became enabled not only to write those ex¬ 
cellent Parables or Aphorisms concerning divine and 
moral philosophy; but also to compile a Natural History 
of all vei^ure, from the cedar upon the mountain to 
the moss upon the wall, (which is but a rudiment 
between putrefaction and a herb,) and also of all things 
that breathe or move. 3 Nay, the same Solomon the 
king, although he excelled in the glory of treasure and 
magnificent buildings, of shipping and navigation, of 
service and attendance, of fame and renown, and the 
like,(yet he maketh no claim to any of those glories, 
but only to the glory of inquisition of truth ; for so he 
saith expressly, The glory of God is to conceal a thing , 
but the glory of the king is to find it out ; 4 as if, ac¬ 
cording to the innocent play of children, the Divine 
Majesty took delight to hide His works, to the end to 
have them found out; and as if kings could not obtain 
a greater honour than to be God’s playfellows in that 
game ; considering the great commandment of wits and 
means, whereby nothing needeth to be hiddenfrom them. 

10. Neither did the dispensation of God vary in the 

6 Job xxvi. 7,13. 7 xxxviii. 31. 8 ix. 9. 9 x. 10. 

1 xxviii. 1. Compare Sir Roderick Murchison’s comment on this 
text in his lecture delivered in 1850, at the Royal Institution. 

2 1 Kings iii. 5, seq, 3 iv. 33. 4 Prov. xxv. 2. 






41 


Of the Apostle Paul, and the Fathers. 

times after our Saviour came into the world; for our 
Saviour Himself did first show his power to subdue 
ignorance, by His conference with the priests and 
doctors of the law, 5 before He showed His power to 
subdue nature by His miracles. And the coming of 
the Holy Spirit was chiefly figured and expressed 
in the similitude and gift of tongues, which are but 
vehicula scientice . 6 

11. So in the election of those instruments, which 
it pleased God to use for the plantation of the Faith, 
notwithstanding that at the first he did employ persons 
altogether unlearned, otherwise than by inspiration, 
more evidently to declare His immediate working, and 
to abase all human wisdom or knowledge; yet, never¬ 
theless, that counsel of His was no sooner performed, 
but in the next vicissitude and succession He did send 
His Divine Truth into the world, waited on with other 
learnings, as with servants or handmaids : for so we 
see. St. Paul, who was the only learned amongst the 
Apostles, had his pen most used in the Scriptures of the 
New Testament. 

12ASo again, we find that many of the ancient 
Bishops and Fathers of the Church were excellently 
read, and studied in all the learning of the heathen; 
insomuch, that the edict of the Emperor Julianus, 7 
whereby it was interdicted 'unto Christians to be 
admitted into schools, lectures, or exercises of learning, 
was esteemed and accounted a more pernicious engine 
and machination against the Christian Faith, than 
were all the sanguinary prosecutions of his pre¬ 
decessors ; neither could the emulation* and jealousy 
of Gregory the first of that name, bishop of Rome, 8 
ever obtain the opinion of piety or devotion; 
but contrariwise received the censure of humour, 
malignity, and pusillanimity, even amongst holy men; 
in that he designed to obliterate and extinguish the 
memory of heathen antiquity and authors. But con¬ 
trariwise, it was the Christian church, which, amidst 
the inundations of the Scythians on the one side from 
the north-west, and the Saracens from the east, did pre¬ 
serve in the sacred lap and bosom thereof, the precious 


6 Luke ii. 46. 6 Act. Ap. ii. 1. 

7 Yid. Gibbon, vol. ii. c. 23, who quotes Julian. Epist. xlii.; 

and Ammian. xxii. 10, xxv. 5. 8 Vid. Gibbon, vol. iv. c. 45. 



42 


Our Lord's Rebuke of Ignorance. 

relics even of heathen learning, which otherwise had 
been extinguished, as if no such thing had ever been. 

13. And we see before our eyes, that in the age of 
ourselves and our fathers, (when it pleased God to 
call the Church of Home to account for their degenerate 
manners and ceremonies, and sundry doctrines ob¬ 
noxious, and framed to uphold the same abuses ; at 
one and the same time it was ordained by the Divine 
Providence, that there should attend withal a renova¬ 
tion and new spring of all other knowledges. And, on 
the other side we see the Jesuits, (who partly in them¬ 
selves, and partly by the emulation and provocation of 
their example, have much quickened and strengthened 
the state of learning,) we see. I say, what notable service 
and reparation they have done to the Homan see. 

14. Wherefore, to conclude this part, let it be 
observed, that there be two principal duties and 
services, besides ornament and illustration, which 
philosophy and human learning do perform to faith 
and religion. The one-, because they are an effectual 
inducement to the exaltation of the glory of God : for 
as the Psalms and other Scriptures do- often invite us 
to consider and magnify the great and wonderful works 
of God; 9 so if we should rest only in the contemplation 
of the exterior of them, as they first offer themselves 
to our senses, we should do a like injury unto the 
Majesty of God,/as if we should judge or construe of 
the store of some excellent jeweller, by that only 
which is set out toward the street in his" shop. The 
other, because they minister a singular help and pre¬ 
servative against unbelief and error: for our Saviour 
saith, You err, not Jcnotving the Scriptures, nor the 
power of God f laying before us two books or volumes 
to study, if we will be secured from error; first, the 
Scriptures, revealing the Will of God; and then the 
creatures expressing His power; whereof the latter is a 
key unto the former: not only opening our under¬ 
standing to conceive the true sense of the Scriptures, 
by the general notions of reason and rules of speech ; 
but chiefly opening our belief, in drawing us into a due 
meditation of the omnipotency of God, which is chiefly 
signed and engraven upon Sis works. Thus much 


s Ps. xix. civ. See Humboldt’s comment on tlie latter. Cosmos. 
vol. ii. p. 413. i Matt. xxii. 29. 



Witness of Man to the Value of Learning. 


43 


therefore for divine testimony and evidence concerning 
the true dignity and value of Learning. 

*VIL As for human proofs, it is so large 
Proofs 1 a field, as, in a discourse of this nature and 
brevity, it is fit rather to use choice of those 
things which we shall produce, than to embrace the variety 
of them. First, therefore, in the degrees of human honour 
amongst the heathen, it was the highest to obtain to a 
veneration and adoration as a God. This unto the Chris¬ 
tians is as the forbidden fruit. But we speak now sepa¬ 
rately of human testimony: according to which, that which 
the Grecians call apotheosis, and the Latins, relatio inter 
divos, was the supreme honour which man could attribute 
unto man : especially when it was given, not by a formal 
decree or act of state, as it was used among the Homan 
Emperors, but by an inward assent and belief. Which 
honour, being so high, had also a degree or middle term: 
for there were reckoned above human honours, honours 
heroical and divine : in the attribution and distribution 
of which honours, we see antiquity made this difference: 
that whereas founders and uniters of states and cities, law¬ 
givers, extirpers of tyrants, fathers of the people, and other 
eminent persons in civil merit, were honoured but with the 
titles of worthies or demi-gods ; such as were Hercules, 
Theseus, Minos, Eomulus, and the like : on the other side, 
such as were inventors and authors of new arts, endow¬ 
ments, and commodities towards man’s life, were ever con¬ 
secrated amongst the gods themselves j) as were Ceres, 
Bacchus, Mercurius, Apollo, and others: and justly ; for 
the merit of the former is confined within the circle of an 
age or a nation; and is like fruitful showers, which though 
they be profitable and good, yet serve but for that season, 
and for a latitude of ground where they fall; but the 
other is indeed like the benefits of heaven, which are 
permanent and universal. The former, again, is mixed 
with strife and perturbation; but the latter hath the true 
character of Divine Presence, coming in aura leni, without 
noise or agitation. 

2. Neither is certainly that other merit of learning, in 
repressing the inconveniences which grow from man to 
man, much inferior to the former, of relieving the neces¬ 
sities which arise from nature ; which merit was lively set 
forth by the ancients in that feigned relation of Orpheus’s 
theatre, where all beasts and birds assembled; and, for¬ 
getting their several appetites, some of prey, some, of 
game, some of quarrel, stood all sociably together listening 


44 Kingdoms happy under Learned Princes; 

to the airs and accords of the harp ; the sound whereof no 
sooner ceased, or was drowned bj some louder noise, but 
every beast returned to its own nature : ^wherein is aptly 
described the nature and condition of men, who are full of 
savage and unreclaimed desires of profit, of lust, of revenge; 
which as long as they give ear to precepts, to laws, to 
religion, sweetly touched with eloquence and persuasion of 
books, of sermons, of harangues, so long is society and 
peace maintained; but if these instruments be silent, or 
that sedition and tumult make them not audible, all things 
dissolve into anarchy and confusion. 

3. But this appeareth more manifestly, when kings 
themselves, or persons of authority under them, or other 
governors in commonwealths and popular estates, are 
endued with learning. For although he might be thought 
partial to his own profession, that said, Then should people 
and estates he happy , when either kings were philosophers, or 
philosophers kings;' 2 yet so much is verified by experience, 
that under learned princes and governors there have been 
ever the best times : for howsoever kings may have their 
imperfections in their passions and customs; yet if they 
be illuminate by learning, they have those notions of reli¬ 
gion, policy, and morality, which do preserve them, and 
refrain them from all ruinous and peremptory errors and 
excesses ; whispering evermore in their ears, when coun¬ 
sellors and servants stand mute and silent. And senators 
or counsellors likewise, which be learned, do proceed upon 
more safe and substantial principles, than counsellors 
which are only men of experience: the one sort keeping 
dangers afar off, whereas the other discover them not till 
they come near hand, and then trust to the agility of their 
wit to ward or avoid them. 

4. Which felicity of times under learned princes, (to 
keep still the law of brevity, by using the most eminent 
and selected examples,) doth best appear in the age which 
passed from the death of Domitian the emperor until the 
reign of Commodus •) comprehending a succession of six 
princes, all learned, or singular favourers and advancers of 
learning, 3 which age for temporal respects, was the most, 
happy and flourishing that ever the Roman empire, (which 
then was a model of the world,) enjoyed: a matter revealed 
and prefigured unto Domitian in a dream the night before 
he was slain; for he thought there was grown behind upon 
his shoulders a neck and a head of gold: which came 


2 Plat. {Rep. v.) ii. 475. 


3 Suet., Domit. Vit ., c. 23. 




as Rome under Nerva 


45 


accordingly to pass in those golden times*which succeeded: 
of which princes we will make some commemoration; 
wherein although the matter will be vulgar, and may be 
thought fitter for a declamation than agreeable to a treatise 
infolded as this is, yet because it is pertinent to the point 
in hand, Neque semjper arcum tendit Apollo , 4 and to name 
them only were too naked and cursory, I will not omit it 
altogether. The first was Nerva; the excellent temper of 
whose government is by a glance in Cornelius Tacitus 
touched to the life : Postquam divus Nerva res olim inso- 
ciabiles miscuisset, imperium et libertatem. h \And in token 
of his learning, the last act of his short reign left to 
memory, was a missive to his adopted son Trajan, pro¬ 
ceeding upon some inward discontent at the ingratitude of 
the times, comprehended in a verse of Homer’s: 

Telis, Phoebe, tuis lacrymas ulciscere, nostras. 6 

5. Trajan, who succeeded, was for his person not 
learned: but if we will hearken to the speech of our 
Saviour, that saith, lie that receiveth a prophet in the name 
of a prophet, shall have a prophet's reward? he deserveth 
to be placed amongst the most learned princes: for there 
was not a greater admirer of learning, or benefactor of 
learning; a founder of famous libraries, a perpetual 
advancer of learned men to office, and a familiar converser 
with learned professors and preceptors, who w r ere noted to 
have then most credit in court. On the other side, how 
much Trajan’s virtue and government was admired and 
renowned, surely no testimony of grave and faithful history 
doth more lively set forth, than that legend tale of 
Gregorius Magnus, bishop of home, w r lio was noted for 
the extreme envy he bore towards all heathen excellency: 
and yet he is reported, out of the love and estimation of 
Trajan’s moral virtues, to have made unto God passionate 
and fervent prayers for the delivery of his soul out of hell: 
and to have obtained it, with a caveat that he should 
make no more such petitions. In this prince’s time also, 
the persecution against the Christians received intermis¬ 
sion, upon the certificate of Plinius Secundus, a man of 
excellent learning, and by Trajan advanced. 8 

4 Hor. Od. ii. 10, 19. 5 Agric. Vit. c. 3. 

6 Titjuav A avctoi ipa daicpva aoiai fikXtooiv. Horn. II. a. 42. 
Vid. Dio Cassius lxviii. p. 771. 7 Matt. x. 41. 

8 C. blin. Trajan. Imp. x. 97. See an account of the letter 
referred to, with Trajan’s reply, in Paley’s Evidences of Christianity , 
Part I. c. i. and Part II. c. ix. 



46 


and his Successors, 

6. Adrian, his successor, was the most curious man that 
lived, and the most universal inquirer; insomuch as it wa^ 
noted for an error in his mind, that he desired to compre¬ 
hend all things, and not to reserve himself for the worthiest 
things : hilling into the like humour that was long before 
noted in Philip of Macedon; who, when he would needs 
over-rule and put down an excellent musician in an argu 
ment touching music, was well answered by him again 
God forbid, sir, saith he, that your fortune should be sc 
bad, as to know these things better than I 9 It pleasec 
God likewise to use the curiosity of this emperor as ar 
inducement to the peace of his Church in those days. Foi 
having Christ in veneration, not as a God or Saviour, 
but as a wonder or novelty ; and having his picture in his 
gallery, matched with Apollonius, with whom in his vain 
imagination he thought he had some conformity; yet it 
served the turn to allay the bitter hatred of those times 
against the Christian name, so as the Church had peace 
during his time. And for his government civil, although j 
he did not attain to that of Trajan’s in glory of arms, or j 
perfection of justice, yet in deserving of the weal of the j 
subject he did exceed him. For Trajan erected manj 
famous monuments and buildings; insomuch as Constan¬ 
tine the Great in emulation was wont to call him Parietaria, 
{wall-flower,) because his name was upon so many walls : j 
but his buildings and works were more of glory and | 
triumph than use and necessity. But Adrian spent his t 
whole reign, which was peaceable, in a perambulation or | 
survey of the Roman empire; giving order and making j 
assignation where he went, for re-edifying of cities, towns, 
and forts decayed; and for cutting of rivers and streams, j 
and for making bridges and passages, and for policing 1 
of cities and commonalties with new ordinances and | 
constitutions, and granting new franchises and incorpora¬ 
tions ; so that his whole time was a very restoration of all j 
the lapses and decays of former times. 

7. Antoninus Pius, who succeeded him, was a prince i 
excellently learned ; and had the patient and subtle wit of 1 
a schoolman; insomuch as in common speech, which leaves 
no virtue untaxed, he was called Cymini Sector, 2 (a carver * 

9 Plutarch. Apophth. 179. 

1 Bordvri roiyoy. Adrian he called spyaXsiov £wypa0iicdv. See i 
a collection of Excerpta , published by Mai, from an anonymous 
writer, who continued the history of Dio Cassius. I have not been 
able to meet with the place whence Bacon took the anecdote. 

2 Unum de istis puto qui cuminum secant. Julian. Cccs. 







47 


until the Reign of Commodus. 

or divider of cummin,) which is one of the least seeds ; such 
a patience he had and settled spirit, to enter into the least 
and most exact differences of causes; a fruit no doubt of 
the exceeding tranquillity and serenity of his mind ; which 
being no ways charged or incumbered, either with fears, 
remorses, or scruples, but having been noted for a man of 
the purest goodness, without all fiction or affectation, that 
hath reigned or lived, made his mind continually present 
and entire. He likewise approached a degree nearer unto 
Christianity, and became, as Agrippa said unto St. Paul, 
half a Christian ; 3 holding their religion and law in good 
opinion, and not only ceasing persecution, but giving way 
to the advancement of Christians. 

8. There succeeded him the first Divi fratres, the two 
adoptive brethren, Lucius Commodus Yerus, 4 (son to iElius 
Yerus, who delighted much in the softer kind of learning, 
and was wont to call the poet Martial his Yirgil, 5 ) &nd 
Marcus Aurelius Antoninus; whereof the latter, who ob¬ 
scured his colleague and survived him long, was named the 
philosopher: who, as he excelled all the re3t in learning, 
so he excelled them likewise in perfection of all royal 
virtues; insomuch as Julianus the emperor, in his book 
entitled Ccesares, being as a pasquil or satire to deride all 
ais predecessors, feigned that they were all invited to a 
aanquet of the gods, and Silenus the jester sat at the 
nether end of the table, and bestowed a scoff on every one 
is they came in ; but when Marcus Philosophus came in, 
Silenus was gravelled, and out of countenance, not know- 
ng where to carp at him ; save at the last he gave a glance 
at his patience towards his wife. And the virtue of this 
>rince, continued with that of his predecessor, made the 
lame of Antoninus so sacred in the world, that though it 
were extremely dishonoured in Commodus, Caracalla, and 
Heliogabalus, who all bore the name, yet when Alexander 
deverus refused the name, because he was a stranger to 
he family, the senate with one acclamation said, Quomodo 
Augustus , sic et Antoninus . 6 In such renown and vene¬ 
ration was the name of these two princes, in those days, 
hat they would have it as a perpetual addition in all the 
unperor’s style. In this emperor’s time also the Church 
or the most part was in peace; so as in this sequence of six 


3 Acts Ap. xxvi. 28. 4 Better known as L. Aurelius Yerus. 

3 See his life by Spartianus. 

e An account of the absurd scene here alluded to is given by 
jampridius, in his life of Severus. 




48 


England under Queen Elizabeth. 

princes we do see the blessed effects of learning in sove¬ 
reignty, painted forth in the greatest table of the world. 

9. But for a tablet, or picture of smaller volume, (not 
presuming to speak of your majesty that liveth,) in my 
judgment the most excellent is that of Queen Elizabeth, 
your immediate predecessor in this part of Britain; a 
princess that, if Plutarch were now alive to write lives by 
parallels, would trouble him, I think, to find for her a 
parallel amongst women. This lady was endued with 
learning in her sex singular, and great 7 even amongst mas¬ 
culine princes ; whether we speak of learning, of language, 
or of science, modern or ancient, Divinity or Humanity : 
and unto the very last year of her life she was accustomed 
to appoint set hours for reading, scarcely any young stu¬ 
dent in a university more daily, or more duly. As for her 
government, I assure myself I shall not exceed, if I do 
affifm that this part of the island never had forty-five years 
of better times ; and yet not through the calmness of the 
season, but through the wisdom of her regiment. For if 
there be considered of the one side, the truth of religion 
established, the constant peace and security, the good ad¬ 
ministration of justice, the temperate use of the preroga¬ 
tive, not slackened, nor much strained, the flourishing state 
of learning, sortable to so excellent a patroness, the con¬ 
venient estate of wealth and means, both of Crown and 
subject, the habit of obedience, and the moderation of dis¬ 
contents ; and there be considered on the other side the 
differences of religion, the troubles of neighbour countries, 
the ambition of Spain, and opposition of Some ; and then, 
that she was solitary and of herself: these things, I say, 
considered, as I could not have chosen an instance so recent 
and so proper, so, I suppose, I could not have chosen one 
more remarkable or eminent to the purpose now in hand, 
which is concerning the conjunction of learning in the prince 
with felicity in the people. 

10. Neither hath learning an influence and operation 
only upon civil merit and moral virtue, and the arts or tem¬ 
perature of peace and peaceable government; but likewise 
it hath no less power and efficacy in enablement towards 
martial and military virtue and prowess; as may be notably 
represented in the examples of Alexander the Great, and 
Caesar the dictator, mentioned before, but now in fit place 
to be resumed: of whose virtues and acts in war there 
needs no note or recital, having been the wonders of time 


7 Edit. 16.33, rare. 



Learning promotes Military Virtue. 49 

in that kind: but of their affections towards learning, and 
perfections in learning, it is pertinent to say somewhat. 

II. Alexander 8 was bred and taught under Aristotle, 
the great philosopher, who dedicated divers of his books 
of philosophy unto him: he was attended with Callis- 
thenes and divers other learned persons, that followed 
him in camp, throughout his journeys and conquests. 
What price and estimation he had learning in doth notably 
appear in these three particulars: first, in the envy he 
used to express that he bore towards Achilles, in this, that 
he had so good a trumpet of his praises as Homer’s verses ; 
secondly, in the judgment or solution he gave touching 
that precious cabinet of Darius, which was found among 
his jewels; whereof question was made what thing was 
worthy to be put into it; and he gave his opinion for 
Homer’s works : thirdly, in his letter to Aristotle, after he 
had set forth his books of nature, wherein he expostulated 
with him for publishing the secrets or mysteries of philo¬ 
sophy ; and gave him to understand that himself esteemed 
it more to-excel other men in learning and knowledge than 
in power and empire. And what use he had of learning doth 
appear, or rather shine,in all his speeches and answers, being 
full of science, and use of science, and that in all variety. 

And herein again it may seem a thing scholastical, 
and somewhat idle, to recite things that every man knoweth; 
but yet, since the argument I handle leadeth me thereunto, 
I am glad that men shall perceive I am as willing to flatter, 
if they will so call it, an Alexander, or a Caesar, or an 
Antoninus, that are dead many hundred years since, as any 
that now liveth: for it is the displaying of the glory of 
learning in sovereignty that I propound to myself, and not 
an humour of declaiming in any man’s praises. Observe 
then the speech he used of Diogenes, and see if it tend not 
to the true state of one of the greatest questions of moral 
philosophy; whether the enjoying of outward things, or the 
contemning of them, be the greatest happiness : for when 
he saw Diogenes so perfectly contented with so little, he 
said to those that mocked at his condition, Were I not 
Alexander, I would wish to he Diogenes. But Seneca in- 
verteth it, and saith; Plus erat, quod hie nollet accijpere, 
quam quod ille posset dare.* (There were more things 
which Diogenes would have refused, than there were which 
Alexander could have given.) 

8 For these anecdotes of Alexander, see Plutarch, Vit. Alex., 
passim. 9 Sen. I)e BeneJ. v. 5. 


E 



50 


Alexander's Perfection in Learning 

Observe again that speech which was usual with him, 
That hefelt his mortality chiefly in two things, sleep and lust f 
and see if it were not a speech extracted out of the depth 
of natural philosophy, and liker to have come out of the 
mouth of Aristotle or Democritus, than from Alexander. 

See again that speech of humanity and poesy; when 
upon the bleeding of his wounds, he called unto him one of 
his flatterers, that was wont to ascribe to him divine honour, 
and said, Look, this is very blood; this is not such a liquor 
as Homer speaketh of, which ran from Venus' hand, when 
it was pierced by Diomedes? 

See likewise his readiness in reprehension of logic, in 
the speech he used to Cassander, upon a complaint that 
was made against his father Antipater: for when Alexander 
happened to say, Do you think these men would have come 
from so far to complain, except they had just cause of grief? 
And Cassander answered, Yea, that was the matter, because 
they thought they should not be disproved. Said Alexander 
laughing: See the subtilties of Aristotle, to take a matter 
both ways, pro et contra, Sfc. 

But note again how well he could use the same art, 
which he reprehended, to serve his own humour: when 
bearing a secret grudge to Callisthenes, because he was 
against the new ceremony of his adoration, feasting one 
night where the same Callisthenes was at the table, it was 
moved by some after supper, for entertainment sake, that 
Callisthenes, who was an eloquent man, might speak of 
some theme or purpose, at his own choice: which Callis¬ 
thenes did: choosing the praise of the Macedonian nation 
for his discourse, and performing the same with so good 
manner, as the hearers were much ravished: whereupon 
Alexander, nothing pleased, said, It was easy to be eloquent 
upon so good a subject. But, saith he, Turn your style, and 
let us hear what you can say against us: which Callisthenes 
presently undertook, and did with that sting and life, that 
Alexander interrupted him, and said, The goodness of the 
cause made him eloquent before, and despite made him 
eloquent then again. 

Consider further, for tropes of rhetoric, that excellent 
use of a metaphor or translation, wherewith he taxed 
Antipater, who was an imperious and tyrannous governor: 
for when one of Antipater’s friends commended him to 
Alexander for his moderation, that he did not degenerate, 


1 Vid. Sen., Ep. Mor. vi. 7. 

8 ’Ix^p, olog 7rip rf josti paicdpsaoi Qeoltrt. II. e. 340. 



51 


displayed in his Sayings. 

as liis other lieutenants did, into the Persian pride, in use 
of purple, but kept the ancient habit of Macedon, of black; 
True, saith Alexander, hut Antipater is all purple within? 
Or that other, when Parmenio came to him in the plain of 
Arbela, and showed him the innumerable multitude of his 
enemies, especially as they appeared by the infinite number 
of lights, as it had been a new firmament of stars, and 
thereupon advised him to assail them by night: whereupon 
he answered, That he would not steal the victory. 

For matter of policy, weigh that significant distinction, 
so much in all ages embraced, that he made between his 
two friends, Hephsestion and Craterus, when he said, That 
the one loved Alexander, and the other loved the king: 
describing the principal difference of princes’ best servants, 
that some in affection love their person, and others in duty 
love their crown. 

Weigh also that excellent taxation of an error, ordinary 
with counsellors of princes, that they counsel their masters 
according to the model of their own mind and fortune, and 
not of their masters’; when, upon Darius’s great offers, 
Parmenio had said, Surely I would accept these offers, tvere 
I as Alexander; saith Alexander, So ivould I, ivere I as 
Parmenio. 

Lastly, weigh that quick and acute reply, which he 
made when he gave so large gifts to his friends and 
servants, and was asked what he did reserve for himself, 
and he answered, Hope: weigh, I say, whether he had not 
cast up his account right, because hope must be the 
portion of all that resolve upon great enterprises. For 
this was Caesar’s portion when he went first into Gaul, his 
estate being then utterly overthrown with largesses. And 
this was likewise the portion of that noble prince, howso¬ 
ever transported with ambition, Henry Duke of Guise, of 
whom it was usually said, that he was the greatest usurer in 
France, because he had turned all his estate into obligations. 

To conclude, therefore: as certain critics are used to 
say hyperbolically, That if all sciences were lost they might 
he found in Virgil! so certainly this may be said truly, there 
are the prints and footsteps of learning in those few 
speeches which are reported of this prince : the admiration 
of whom, when I consider him not as Alexander the 
Great, but as Aristotle’s scholar, hath carried me too far. 

12. As for Julius Csesar, the excellency of his learning 
needeth not to be argued from his education, or his 


b\o7r6p<bvpog. Apop. Teg. et Imp. 
E 2 



52 


Writings of Julius Ccesar; 

company, or his speeches; but in a further degree doth 
declare itself in his writings and works; whereof some are 
extant and permanent, and some unfortunately perished. 
For, first, we see there is left unto us that excellent 
history of his own wars, which he intitled only a Com¬ 
mentary, wherein all succeeding times have admired the 
solid weight of matter, and the real passages and lively 
images of actions and persons, expressed in the greatest 
propriety of words and perspicuity of narration that ever 
was ; which that it was not the effect of a natural gift, but 
of learning and precept, is well witnessed by that work of 
his, entitled, De Analogia, 4 5 being a grammatical philo¬ 
sophy, wherein he did labour to make this same Vox ad 
jplacitum to become Vox ad licitum, and to reduce custom 
of speech to congruity of speech; and took, as it were, the 
picture of words from the life of reason. 

So we receive from him, as a monument both of his 
power and learning, the then reformed computation of the 
year; well expressing that he took it to be as great a glory 
to himself to observe and know the law- of the heavens, as 
to give law to men upon the earth. 

So likewise in that book of his, Anti- Cato, 5 it may 
easily appear that he did aspire as well to victory of wit 
as victory of war: undertaking therein a conflict against 
the greatest champion with the pen that then lived, Cicero 
the Orator. 

So again in this book of Apophthegms, which he col¬ 
lected, we see that he esteemed it more honour to make 
himself but a pair of tables, to take the wise and pithy 
words of others, than to have every word of his own to be 
made an apophthegm or an oracle; as vain princes, by 
custom of flattery, pretend to do. 6 And yet if I should 
enumerate divers of his speeches, as I did those of 
Alexander, they are truly such as Solomon noteth, when 
he saith, Verba sapientum tanquam aculei,, et tanquamclavi 
in altum defixid whereof I will only recite three, not so 
delectable for elegancy, but admirable for vigour and 
efficacy. 

r—first, it is reason he be thought a master of words, 
jthat could with one word appease a mutiny in his army, 
jwhich was thus: The Romans, when their generals did 
ispeak to their army, did use the word milites, but when 


4 Vid. Cic. Brutus, 72. 

5 Vid. Cic. ad Att. xii. 40, 41. xiii. 50. and Top. xxv. 

6 Cic. ad Fam. ix. 16. t Eccl. xii.ll. 




His Wit and Wisdom. 


53 


the magistrates spake to the people, they did use the 
word Quirites. The soldiers were in tumult, and seditiously 
prayed to be cashiered; not that they so meant, but by 
expostulation thereof to draw Csesar to other conditions ; 
wherein he being resolute not to give way, after some 
silence, he began his speech, Ego Quirites, 8 which did 
admit them already cashiered; wherewith they were so 
surprised, crossed, and confused, as they would not suffer 
him to go on in his speech, but relinquished their demands, 
and made it their suit to be again called by the name of 
milites. 

The second speech was thus: Csesar did extremely 
affect the name of king; and some were set on as he 
passed by, in popular acclamation to salute him king: 
whereupon, finding the cry weak and poor, he put it off 
thus, in a kind of jest, as if they had mistaken his surname ; 
Non Hex sum, sed Caesar ; 9 a speech, that if it be searched, 
the life and fulness of it can scarce be expressed. For, first, 
it was a refusal of the name, but yet not serious : again, it 
did signify an infinite confidence and magnanimity, as 
if he presumed Csesar was the greater title; as by his 
worthiness it is come to pass till this day: but chiefly it 
was a speech of great allurement toward his own purpose ; 
as if the state did strive with him but for a name, whereof 
mean families were vested; for Hex was a surname with 
the Homans, as well as King is with us. 

The last speech which I will mention, was used to 
Metellus; when Csesar, after war declared, did possess 
himself of the city of Home; at which time entering into 
the inner treasury to take the money there accumulated, 
Metellus, being tribune, forbade him: whereto Csesar said. 
That if he did not desist, he would lay him dead in the'place. 
And presently taking himself up, he added, Adolescens, 
durius est mihi hoc dicere quam facere. Young man, it is 
harder for me to speak than to do it. * 1 A speech com¬ 
pounded of the greatest terror and greatest clemency that 
could proceed out of the mouth of man. 

But to return and conclude with him; it is evident, 
himself knew well his own perfection in learning, and took 
it upon him; as appeared when, upon occasion that some 
spake what a strange resolution it was in Lucius Sylla to 
resign his dictature ; he scoffing at him, to his own advan- 


8 Suet, in Vit. Jul. Cces., c. 70. 

1 Plutarch; cf. Cic. ad Att. x. 8. 


9 Ibid. c. 79. 



54 


Achievement of Xenophon, a Scholar. 

tage, answered, That Sylla could not slcill of letters , and 
therefore knew not how to dictate? 

13. And here it were fit to leave this point, touching 
the concurrence of military virtue and learning, for what 
example would come with any grace after those two of 
Alexander and Caesar ? were it not in regard of the rare¬ 
ness of circumstance, that I find in one other particular, 
as that which did so suddenly pass from extreme scorn to 
extreme wonder; and it is of Xenophon the philosopher, 
who went from Socrates’ school into Asia, in the expedition 
of Cyrus the younger, against King Artaxerxes. This 
Xenophon at that time was very young, and never had 
seen the wars before; neither had any command in the 
army, but only followed the war as a voluntary, for the 
love and conversation of Proxenus his friend. 3 He was 
present when Falinus came in message from the great 
king to the Grecians, after that Cyrus was slain in the 
field, and they a handful of men left to themselves in the 
midst of the king’s territories, cut off from their country 
by many navigable rivers, and many hundred miles. The 
message imported, that they should deliver up their arms, 
and submit themselves to the king’s mercy. To which 
message before answer was made, divers of the army con¬ 
ferred familiarly with Falinus: and amongst the rest 
Xenophon happened to say, Why, Falinus, we have now 
hut these two things left, our arms and our virtue; and if 
we yield up our arms, how shall ice make use of our virtue? 
Whereto Falinus smiling on him, said, If I he not deceived , 
young gentleman, you are an Athenian: and, I believe you 
study philosophy, and it is pretty that you say: hut you are 
much abused, if you think your virtue can withstand the 
king's power? Here was the scorn; the wonder followed : 
which was, that this young scholar, or philosopher, after 
all the captains were murdered in parley by treason, con¬ 
ducted those ten thousand foot, through the heart of all 
the king’s high countries, from Babylon to Gracia in 
safety, in despite of all the king’s forces, to the astonish¬ 
ment of the world, and the encouragement of the Grecians 
in time succeeding to make invasion upon the kings of 
Persia: as was after purposed by Jason the Thessalian, 
attempted by Agesilaus the Spartan, and achieved by 
Alexander the Macedonian, all upon the ground of the act 
of that young scholar. 


3 Xen. Anab. ii. ad fiu. 


2 Suet, in Vit. c. 77. 


4 Ibid. ii. 1.12. 



Sound Learning exalts Mankind ; 

VIII. To proceed now from imperial and 
military virtue to moral and private virtue: 
first, it is an assured truth, which is contained 
in the verses: 

Scilicet ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes, 

Emollit mores, nec sinit esse feros. 5 

(It taketh away the wildness and barbarism and fierceness 
of men’s minds ; but indeed the accent had need be upon 
fideliter: for a little superficial learning doth rather work 
a contrary effect. It taketh away all levity, temerity, and 
insolency, by copious suggestion of all doubts and diffi¬ 
culties, and acquainting the mind to balance reasons on 
both sides, and to turn back the first offers and conceits of 
the mind, and to accept of nothing but examined and 
tried. It taketh away vain admiration of anything, which 
is the root of all weakness: for all things are admired 
either because they are new, or because they are great. 
Tor novelty, no man that wadeth in learning or con¬ 
templation thoroughly, but will find that printed in his 
heart Nil novi super terram . 6 Neither can any man 
marvel at the play of puppets, that goeth behind the 
curtain, and adviseth well of the motion. And for magni¬ 
tude, as Alexander the Great, after that he was used to 
great armies, and the great conquests of the spacious 
provinces in Asia, when he received letters out of Greece, 
of some fights and services there, which were commonly 
for a passage or a fort, or some walled town at the most, 
he said, It seemed to him, that he was advertised of the 
Battle of the Frogs and the Mice, that the old tales went of 
So certainly, if a man meditate much upon the universal 
frame of nature, the earth with men upon it, (the divine¬ 
ness of souls except,) will not seem much other than an 
ant-hill, whereas some ants carry corn, and some carry 
their young, and some go empty, and all to-and-fro a little 
heap of dust. It taketh away or mitigateth fear of death, 
or adverse fortune; which is one of the greatest impedi¬ 
ments of virtue, and imperfections of manners. For if a 
man’s mind be deeply seasoned with the consideration of 
the mortality and corruptible nature of things, he will 
easily concur with Epictetus, w r ho went forth one day and 
saw a woman weeping for her pitcher of earth that was 
broken; and went forth the next day and saw a woman 
weeping for her son that was dead, and thereupon said: 


55 

Further 
Proofs of 
the same. 


Ov. Ep. Pont. ii. ix. 47. 


6 Eccl. i. 9. 



56 


Maintains Health of Mind; 

fieri vidi fragilem frangi, hodie vidi mortalem morif 
And therefore Virgil did excellently and profoundly couple 
the knowledge of causes and the conquest of all fears 
together, as Concomitantia. 

Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas, 

Quique metus omnes, et inexorabile fatum 

Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acberontis avari. s 

2. It were too long to go over the particular remedies 
which learning doth minister to all the diseases of the 
mind; sometimes purging the ill-humours, sometimes 
opening the obstructions, sometimes helping digestion, 
sometimes increasing appetite, sometimes healing the 
wounds and exulcerations thereof, and the like; and, 
therefore, I will conclude with that which hath rationem 
totius, which is, that it disposeth the constitution of the 
mind not to be fixed or settled in the defects thereof, but 
still to be capable and susceptible of growth and reforma¬ 
tion. For the unlearned man knows not what it is to 
descend into himself, or to call himself to account; nor the 
pleasure of that Suavissima vita, indies sentire se fieri 
meliorem? The good part3 he hath he will learn to show 
to the full, and use them dexterously, but not much to 
increase them: the faults he hath he will learn how to 
hide and colour them, but not much to amend them : like 
an ill mower, that mows on still, and never whets his 
scythe. Whereas with the learned man it fares otherwise, 
that he doth ever intermix the correction and amendment 
of his mind with the use and employment thereof. Nay, 
further, in general and in sum, certain it is that Veritas 
and Bonitas differ but as the seal and the print: for Truth 
prints Goodness; and they be the clouds of error which" 
descend in the storms of passions and perturbations. 

3. From moral virtue let us pass on to matter of power 
and commandment, and consider whether in right reason 
there be any comparable with that wherewith knowledge 
investeth and crowneth man’s nature. We seethe dignity 
of the commandment is according to the dignity of the com¬ 
manded : to have commandment over beasts, as herdmen 
have, is a thing contemptible ; to have commandment over 
children, as schoolmasters have, is a matter of small honour; 
to have commandment over galley-slaves is a disparage¬ 
ment rather than an honour. Neither is the command- 


1 See Epictetus Enchir. c. 33, with the comment of Simplicius. 
• Georg, ii. 490. _ 9 Yid. Plato. Alcib. Prim. ii. 133. 



Gives Command over Men’s Understandings ; 57 

ment of tyrants much better, over people which have put 
off the generosity of their minds : and therefore it was ever 
holden that honours in free monarchies and common¬ 
wealths had a sweetness more than in tyrannies ; because 
the commandment extendeth more over the wills of men, 
and not only over their deeds and services. And there¬ 
fore, when Virgil putteth himself forth to attribute to 
Augustus Caesar the best of human honours, he doth it in 
these words: 

Victorque volentes 

Per populos dat jura, viamque affectat Olympo. 1 

But yet the commandment of knowledge is yet higher than 
the commandment over the will; for it is a commandment 
over the reason, belief, and understanding of man, which 
is the highest part of the mind, and giveth law to the will 
itself. For there is no power on earth which setteth up a 
throne or chair of state in the spirits and souls of men, and 
in their cogitations, imaginations, opinions, and beliefs, but 
knowledge and learning. And therefore we see the de¬ 
testable and extreme pleasure that arch-heretics, and false 
prophets, and impostors are transported with, when they 
once find in themselves that they have a superiority in the 
faith and conscience of men ; so great as if they have once 
tasted of it, it is seldom seen that any torture or per¬ 
secution can make them relinquish or abandon it. But as 
this is that which the author of the Revelation calleth the 
depth or profoundness of Satan : 2 so by argument of con¬ 
traries, the just and lawful sovereignty over men’s under¬ 
standing, by force of truth rightly interpreted, is that which 
approacheth nearest to the similitude of the Divine Rule. 

4. As for fortune and advancement, the beneficence of 
learning is not so confined to give fortune only to states and 
commonwealths, as it doth not likewise give fortune to 
particular persons. For it was well noted long ago, that 
Homer hath given more men their livings, than either 
Sylla, or Csesar, or Augustus ever did, notwithstanding 
their great largesses and donatives, and distributions of 
lands to so many legions. And no doubt it is hard to say, 
whether arms or learning have advanced greater numbers, 

; And in case of sovereignty we see, that if arms or descent 
have carried away the kingdom, yet learning hath carried 
the priesthood, which ever hath been in some competition 
with empire. 


1 Georg, iv. 562. 


2 Rev. ii. 24. 



58 


Excels all other Sources of Pleasure; 

5. Again, for the pleasure and delight of knowledge and 
learning, it far surpasseth all other in nature :) for, shall 
the pleasures of the affections so exceed the senses, as much 
as the obtaining of desire or victory exceedeth a song or a 
dinner; and must not, of consequence, the pleasures of the 
intellect or understanding exceed the pleasures of the 
affections ? We see in all other pleasures there is satiety, 
and after they be used, their verdure departeth; which 
showeth well they be but deceits of pleasure, and not 
pleasures : and that it was the novelty which pleased, and 
not the quality: and therefore we see that voluptuous men 
turn friars, and ambitious princes turn melancholy. But 
of knowledge there is no satiety, but satisfaction and appe¬ 
tite are perpetually interchangeable; and therefore ap- 
peareth to be good in itself simply, without fallacy or 
accident. Neither is that pleasure of small efficacy and 
contentment to the mind of man, which the poet Lucretius 
describeth elegantly. 

Suave mari rnagno, turbantibus aequora ventis, &c. 3 

It is a vieio of delight, saith he, to stand or walk upon 
the shore side, and to see a ship tossed with tempest upon the 
sea ; or to he in a fortified tower, and to see two battles join 
upon a plain; hut it is a pleasure incomparable, for the 
mind of man to he settled, landed, and fortified in the cer¬ 
tainty of truth ; and from thence to descry and behold the 
errors, perturbations, labours, and wandeidngs up and 
down of other men. 

6. Lastly, leaving the vulgar arguments, that by learning 
man excelleth man in that wherein man excelleth beasts ; 
that by learning man ascendeth to the heavens and their 
motions, where in body he cannot come, and the like ; let 
us conclude with the dignity and excellency of knowledge 
and learning in that whereunto man’s nature doth most 
aspire, which is, immortality or continuance : for to this 
tendeth generation, and raising of houses and families ; to 
this buildings, foundations, and monuments; to this tendeth 
the desire of memory, fame, and celebration, and in effect 
the strength of all other human desires. We see then, 
how far the monuments of wit and learning are more 
durable than the monuments of power or of the hands. 
Bor have not the verses of Homer continued twenty-five 
hundred years, or more, without the loss of a syllable or 


3 De Rer. Nat., ii. init. 



59 


Gathers the Wisdom of past Ages; 

letter; during which time, infinite palaces, temples, castles, 
cities, have been decayed and demolished? )It is not 
possible to have the true pictures or statues' of Cyrus, 
Alexander, Caesar; no, nor of the kings or great person¬ 
ages of much later years ; for the originals cannot last, 
and the copies cannot but leese of the life and truth. But 
the images of men’s wits and knowledges remain in books, 
exempted from the wrong of time, and capable of perpetual 
renovation. Neither are they fitly to be called images, 
because they generate • still, and cast their seeds in the 
minds of others, provoking and causing infinite actions 
and opinions in succeeding ages : so that, if the invention 
of the ship was thought so noble, which carrieth riches 
and commodities from place to place, and consociateth the 
most remote regions in participation of their fruits, how 
much more are letters to be magnified, which, as ships, 
pass through the vast seas of time, and make ages so dis¬ 
tant to participate of the wisdom, illuminations, and inven¬ 
tions, the one of the other? Nay further, we see some of the 
philosophers which were least divine, and most immersed 
in the senses, and denied generally the immortality of the 
soul, yet came to this point, that whatsoever motions the 
spirit of man could act and perform without the organs of 
the body, they thought might remain after death, which 
were only those of the understanding, and not of the 
affection: so immortal and incorruptible a thing did 
knowledge seem unto them to be. But we, that know by 
divine revelation that not only the understanding but the 
affections purified, not only the spirit but the body changed, 
shall be advanced to immortality, do disclaim in these rudi¬ 
ments of the senses. But it must be remembered both in 
this last point, and so it may likewise be needful in other 
places, that in probation of the dignity of knowledge or 
learning, I did in the beginning separate divine testimony 
from human, which method I have pursued, and so handled 
them both apart. 

7. Nevertheless, I do not pretend, and I know it will be 
impossible for me, by any pleading of mine, to reverse the 
judgment, either of AEsop’s Cock, that preferred the barley¬ 
corn before the gem; or of Midas, that being chosen judge 
between Apollo, president of the Muses, and Pan, god of 
the flocks, judged for plenty : 4 or of Paris, that judged for 
beauty and love against wisdom and power; 5 nor of 
Agrippina, Occidat matrem, modo imjgeret, that preferred 


4 Ov. Met. xi. 153, seq. 


5 Eurip. Troad. 924, sq. 



60 


Andy finally, is “ justified of her Children 

empire witli conditions never so detestable ; 6 or of Ulysses, 
Qui vetulam prcetulit immortalitati, 7 being a figure of those 
which prefer custom and habit before all excellency; or of 
a number of the like popular judgments. For these things 
continue as they have been: but so will that also continue 
whereupon learning hath ever relied, and which failethnot: 
Justificata est sa'pientia a filiis suis . 8 


6 Tacit. Annul, xiv. 9. 7 Cf. Cic. de Orat.i. 44. 


8 Matt. xi. 19. 



THE 


SECOND BOOK OF FRANCIS BACON, 

OF THE PROFICIENCE AND 

ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, 

DIVINE AND HUMAN. 

To the Xing. 

I T might seem to have more convenience, The Ad- 
though it come often otherwise to pass, vancement 
excellent Ring, that those, which are fruitful of Learning 
in their generations, and have in themselves com ~ 
the foresight of immortality in their descend- e ° f 

ants, should likewise be more careful of the Kinql ° J 
good estate of future times, unto which they y ’ 
know they must transmit and commend over their dearest 
pledges. Queen Elizabeth was a sojourner in the world in 
respect of her unmarried life, and was a blessing to her 
own times: and yet so as the impression of her good 
government, besides her happy memory, is not without 
some effect which doth survive her. But to your Majesty, 
whom God hath already blessed with so much royal issue, 
worthy to continue and represent you for ever; and whose 
youthful and fruitful bed doth yet promise many of the 
like renovations ; it is proper and agreeable to be conver¬ 
sant not only in the transitory parts of good government, 
but in those acts also which are in their nature permanent 
and perpetual: amongst the which, if affection do not 
transport me, there is not any more worthy than the 
further endowment of the world with sound and fruitful 
knowledge. For why should a few received authors stand 
up like Hercules’ columns, beyond which there should be 
no sailing or discovering, since we have so bright and 
benign a star as your Majesty to conduct and prosper us ? 
To return therefore where we left, it remaineth to consider 
of what kind those acts are which have been undertaken 
and performed by kings and others for the increase and 
advancement of learning: wherein I purpose to speak 
actively without digressing or dilating. 


62 


Several means of promoting Learning. 

2. Let this ground therefore be laid, that all works are 
overcome by amplitude of reward, by soundness of direction 
and by the conjunction of labours. The first multiplied 
endeavour, the second preventeth error, and the third sup 
plieth the frailty of man: but the principal of these h. 
direction: for Claudus in via antevertit cursoretn extrc 
viam ; and Solomon excellently setteth it down, If the iroi 
he not sharp, it requireth more strength; hut wisdom u 
that which prevaileth; 1 signifying that the invention or 
election of the mean is more effectual than any inforcemen 
or accumulation of endeavours. This I am induced t< 
speak, for that (not derogating from the noble intention o 
any that have been deservers towards the state of learning ■ 
I do observe, nevertheless, that their works and acts ar< 
rather matters of magnificence and memory, than of pro 
gression and proficience; and tend rather to augment the 
mass of learning in the multitude of learned men, than to 
rectify or raise the Sciences themselves. 

3. The works or acts of merit towards learning ar» 
conversant about three objects : the places of learning, the 
books of learning, and the persons of the learned. For a 
water, whether it be the dew of heaven, or the springs ol 
the earth, doth scatter and leese itself in the ground, excep 
it be collected into some receptacle, where it may by unioi 
comfort and sustain itself, (and for that cause the industry 
of man hath made and framed spring-heads, conduits 
cisterns, and pools, which men have accustomed likewis< 
to beautify and adorn with accomplishments of magnifi 
cence and state, as well as of use and necessity) so thi , 
excellent liquor of knowledge, whether it descend fron 
divine inspiration, or spring from human sense, would soo? 
perish and vanish to oblivion, if it were not preserved h 
books, traditions, conferences, and places appointed, a 
universities, colleges, and schools, for the receipt am 
comforting of the same. 

4. The works which concern the seats and places c 
learning are four; foundations and buildings, endowment 
with revenues, endowments with franchises and privileges 
institutions and ordinances for government; all tending t • 
quietness and privateness of life, and discharge of cares 
and troubles; much like the stations which Virgil pre 
scribeth for the hiving of bees : 

Principio sedes apibus statioque petenda, 

Quo neque sit ventis aditus, &c.* 


1 Eccl. x. 10. 


2 Virg. Georg, iv. 8. 



Advantages of Foundations confined to Professions. 63 

5. The works touching books are two: first, libraries, 
■which are as the shrines where all the relics of the ancient 
saints, full of true virtue, and that without delusion or 
imposture, are preserved and reposed: secondly, new 
editions of authors, with more correct impressions, more 
faithful translations, more profitable glosses, more diligent 
annotations, and the like. 

6. The works pertaining to the persons of learned men, 
besides the advancement and countenancing of them in 
general, are two: the reward and designation of readers in 
sciences already extant and invented; and the reward and 
designation of writers and inquirers concerning any parts 
of learning not sufficiently laboured and prosecuted. 

7. These are summarily the works and acts, wherein 
the merits of many excellent princes and other worthy 
personages have been conversant. As for any particular 
commemorations, I call to mind what Cicero said, when he 
gave general thanks; Difficile non aliquem, ingratum 
quenquam jorceterire . 3 Let us rather, according to the 
Scriptures, 4 look unto that part of the race which is before 
us, than look back to that which is already attained. 

8. First, therefore, amongst so many great foundations 
of colleges in Europe, I find it strange that they are all 
dedicated to professions, and none left free to arts and 
sciences at large. For if men judge that learning should 
be referred to action, they judge well; but in this they fall 
into the error described in the ancient fable, 5 in which the 
other parts of the body did suppose the stomach had been 
idle, because it neither performed the office of motion, as 
the limbs do, nor of sense, as the head doth; but yet, 
notwithstanding, it is the stomach that digesteth and dis¬ 
tributed to all the rest: so if any man think philosophy 
and universality to be idle studies, he doth not consider 
that all professions are from thence served and supplied. 
And this I take to be a great cause that hath hindered the 
progression of learning, because these fundamental know¬ 
ledges have been studied but in passage. For if you will 
have a tree bear more fruit than it hath used to do, it is 
not anything you can do to the boughs, but it is the stirring 
of the earth, and putting new mould about the roots, that 
must work it. Neither is it to be forgotten, that this dedi¬ 
cating of foundations and dotations to professory learning 


3 Quoted from tlie spurious Oral, post Redit. in Sen. xii. 30. 

Cf. pro PL xxx. 74. 4 Philip. . 13. 

5 See Speech of Meueuius Agrippa, Livy, ii. 32. 



64 Mean Provision for Public Lecturers; 

liath not only had a malign aspect and influence upon the 
growth of sciences, but hath also been prejudicial to states 
and governments. For hence it proceedeth that princes 
find a solitude in regard of able men to serve them in 
causes of state, because there is no education collegiate 
which is free; where such as were so disposed might give 
themselves to histories, modern languages, books of policy 
and civil discourse, and other the like enablements unto 
service of estate. ) 

9. And because Founders of Colleges do plant, and 
Founders of Lectures do water, it followeth well in order to 
speak of the defect which is in public lectures; namely, in 
the smallness and meanness of the salary or reward which 
in most places is assigned unto them ; whether they be 
lectures of arts, or of professions. For it is necessary to 
the progression of Sciences that Readers be of the most 
able and sufficient men; as those which are ordained for 
generating and propagating of sciences, and not for tran¬ 
sitory use. This cannot be, except their condition and 
endowment be such as may content the ablest man to 
appropriate his whole labour, and continue his whole age 
in that function and attendance; and therefore must have 
a proportion answerable to that mediocrity or competency 
of advancement, which may be expected from a profession 
or the practice of a profession. So as, if you will have 
sciences flourish, you must observe David’s military law, 
which was, That those which staid with the carriage should 
have equal jpart with those which were in the action ; 6 else 
will the carriages be ill attended. So Readers in Sciences 
are indeed the guardians of the stores and provisions of 
Sciences, whence men in active courses are furnished, and 
therefore ought to have equal entertainment with them: 
otherwise if the fathers in sciences be of the weakest sort, 
or be ill-maintained, 

Et patrum invalidi referent jejunia nati. 7 

10. Another defect I note, wherein I shall need some 
alchemist to help me, who call upon men to sell their books, 
and to build furnaces ; quitting and forsaking Minerva and 
the Muses as barren virgins, and relying upon Vulcan. 
Rut certain it is, that unto the deep,‘fruitful, and opera¬ 
tive study of many sciences, especially Natural Philosophy 
and Physic, books be not the only instrumentals; wherein 
also the beneficence of men hath not been altogether 


6 1 Sam. xxx. 22. 


7 Virg. Georg, iii. 128. 



Neglect of Duty on the Tart of Visitors; 65 

wanting: for we see spheres, globes, astrolabes, maps, and 
the like, have been provided as appurtenances to astronomy 
and cosmography, as well as books: we see likewise that 
some places instituted for physic have annexed the com¬ 
modity of gardens for simples of all sorts, and do like-’ 
wise command the use of dead bodies for anatomies. But 
these do respect but a few things. In general, there will 
hardly be any main proficience in the disclosing of nature, 
except there be some allowance for expenses about experi¬ 
ments ; whether they be experiments appertaining to Yul- 
canus or Doedalus, furnace or engine, or any other kind : 
and therefore as secretaries and spials of princes and states 
bring in bills for intelligence, so, you must allow the spials 
and intelligencers of nature to bring in their bills ; or else 
you shall be ill advertised. 

And if Alexander made such a liberal assignation to 
Aristotle 8 of treasure for the allowance of hunters, fowlers, 
fishers, and the like,thathe mightcompile ahistoryof nature, 
much better do they deserve it that travail in arts of nature. 

11. Another defect which I note, is an intermission or 
neglect in those w r hich are governors in universities, of 
consultation; and in princes or superior persons, of visita¬ 
tion : to enter into account and consideration, whether the 
readings, exercises, and other customs appertaining unto 
learning, anciently begun, and since continued, be well 
instituted or no; and thereupon to ground an amend¬ 
ment or reformation in that which shall be found inconve¬ 
nient. Bor it is one of your majesty’s own most wise and 
princely maxims, That in all usages and precedents, the 
times he considered wherein they first began; ichich, if they 
were weak or ignorant, it derogateth from the authority of 
the usage, and leaveth it for suspect. And therefore inas¬ 
much as most of the usages and orders of the universities 
were derived from more obscure times, it is the more requi¬ 
site they be re-examined. In this kind I w r ill give an in¬ 
stance or tw r o, for example sake, of things that are the most 
obvious and lamiliar. The one is a matter, which though it 
be ancient and general, yet I hold to be an error; which is, 
that scholars in universities come too soon and too unripe 
to logic and rhetoric, arts fitter for graduates than children 
and novices : for these two, rightly taken, are the gravest 
of sciences, being the arts of arts; the one for judgment, 
the other for ornament: and they be the rules and direc¬ 
tions how to set forth and dispose matter; and therefore 


8 See Blakesley’s Life of Aristotle } p. 69. 



66 Defective Teaching in the Universities ; 

for minds empty and unfraught 'with, matter, and which 
have not gathered that which Cicero calleth Sylva and 
Supellex , 9 stuff and variety, to begin with those arts, (as 
if one should learn to weigh, or to measure, or to paint the 
wind), doth work but this effect, that the wisdom of those 
arts, wliiqh is great and universal, is almost made con¬ 
temptible, and is degenerate into childish sophistry and 
ridiculous affectation. And further, the untimely learning 
of them hath drawn on, by consequence, the superficial and 
unprofitable teaching and writing of them, as fitteth indeed 
to the capacity of children. Another is a lack I find in the 
exercises used in the universities, which do make too great 
a divorce between invention and memory; for their speeches 
are either premeditate, In verbis conceptis, where nothing 
is left to invention, or merely extemporal, where little is 
left to memory: whereas in life and action there is least 
use of either of these, but rather of intermixtures of pre¬ 
meditation and invention, notes and memory; so as the 
exercise fitteth not the practice, nor the image the life; 
and it is ever a true rule in exercises, that they be framed 
as near as may be to the life of practice; for otherwise they 
do pervert the motions and faculties of the mind, and not 
prepare them. The truth whereof is not obscure, when 
scholars come to the practices of professions, or other 
actions of civil life; which when they set into, this want is 
soon found by themselves, and sooner by others. But this 
part, touching the amendment of the institutions and 
orders of universities, I will conclude with the clause of 
Caesar’s letter to Oppius and Balbus, Hoc quemadmodum 
fieri possit, nonnulla mihi in mentem veniunt, et multa reperiri 
possunt; de Us rebus rogo vos ut cogitationem suscipiatis. 1 

13. Another defect which I note, ascendeth a little 
higher than the precedent: for as the proficience of 
learning consisteth much in the orders and institutions of 
universities in the same states and kingdoms, so it would 
be yet more advanced, if there were more intelligence 
mutual between the universities of Europe than now there 
is. We see there be many orders and foundations, which 
though they be divided under several sovereignties and 
territories, yet they take themselves to have a kind of 
contract, fraternity, and correspondence one with the 
other; insomuch as they have provincials and generals. 
And surely, as nature createth brotherhood in families, and 


Sylva. de Orat. iii. 20. Supellex. Orat. 24. 
1 Cic. ad Alt. ix. 7. c. 



Removal of these Faults a Task for Kings. 67 

arts mechanical contract brotherhoods in commonalties, 
and the anointment of God superinduceth a brotherhood 
in kings and bishops; so in like manner there cannot but 
be a fraternity in learning and illumination, relating to 
that paternity which is attributed to God, who is called 
the Father of illuminations or lights. 

14. The last defect which I will note is, that there 
hath not been, or very rarely been, any public designation 
of writers or inquirers concerning such parts of knowledge 
as may appear not to have been already sufficiently 
laboured or undertaken; unto which point it is an induce¬ 
ment to enter into a view and examination what parts of 
learning have been prosecuted, and what omitted: for the 
opinion of plenty is among the causes of want, and the 
great quantity of books maketh a show rather of super¬ 
fluity than lack; which surcharge, nevertheless, is not to be 
remedied by making no more books, but by making more 
good books, which, as the serpent of Moses, might devour 
the serpents of the enchanters. 2 

15. The removing of all the defects formerly enume¬ 
rated, except the last, and of the active part also of the 
last, (which is the designation of writers,) are opera 
basilica; towards which the endeavours of a private man 
may be but as an image in a crossway, that may point at 
the way, but cannot go it: but the inducing part of the 
latter, which is the survey of learning, may be set forward 
by private travail. Wherefore I will now attempt to make 
a general and faithful perambulation of learning, with an 
inquiry what parts thereof lie fresh and waste, and not 
improved and converted by the industry of man; to the 
end that such a plot made and recorded to memory, may 
both minister light to any public designation, and also 
serve to excite voluntary endeavours: wherein, never¬ 
theless, my purpose is, at this time, to note only omissions 
and deficiencies, and not to make any redargution of errors, 
or incomplete prosecutions ; for it is one thing to set forth 
what ground lieth unmanured, and another thing to correct 
ill husbandry in that which is manured. 

In the handling and undertaking of which work I am 
not ignorant what it is that I do now move and attempt, 
nor insensible of mine own weakness to sustain my pur¬ 
pose ; but my hope is, that if my extreme love to learning 
carry me too far, I may obtain the excuse of affection; 
for that It is not granted to man to love and to be wise. 


2 Exod. vii. 10. 



68 


Objection of Impossibility combated. 

But I know well I can use no other liberty of judgment 
than I must leave to others ; and I, for my part, shall be 
indifferently glad either to perform myself, or accept from 
another, that duty of humanity ; Nam qui erranti comiter 
monstrat viam, fyc? I do foresee likewise that of those 
things which I shall enter and register as deficiencies and 
omissions, many will conceive and censure that some of 
them are already done and extant; others to be but 
curiosities, and tilings of no great use: and others to be 
of too great difficulty, and almost impossibility to be com¬ 
passed and effected. But for the two first, I refer myself 
to the particulars; for the last, touching impossibility, I 
take it those things are to be held possible which may be 
done by some person, though not by every one; and which 
may be done by many, though not by any one: and which 
may be done in the succession of ages, though not within 
the hourglass of one man’s life; and which may be done 
by public designation, though not by private endedvour. But, 
notwithstanding, if any man will take to himself rather that 
of Solomon, Licit piger, Leo est in via, 4 than that of Virgil, 
JPossunt quia posse videnturj I shall be content that my 
labours be esteemed but as the better sort of wishes : for as 
it asketh some knowledge to demand a question not imperti¬ 
nent, so it required some sense to make a wish not absurd. 

I. 1. HE parts of human learning have 
X reference to the three parts of 
man’s understanding, which is the seat of 
learning : history to his memory, poesy to his 
imagination, and philosophy to his reason. 
Divine learning receiveth the same distribu¬ 
tion ; for the spirit of man is the same, 
though the revelation of oracle and sense be 
diverse: so as theology consisteth also of the history of 
the church; of parables, which is divine poesy; and of 
holy doctrine or precept: for as for that part which seemeth 
supernumerary, which is prophecy , it is but Divine History; 
which hath that prerogative over human, as the narration 
may be before the fact as well as after. 

2. History is natural, civil, ecclesiastical, and literary; 
whereof the first three I allow as extant, the fourth I note 
as deficient. For no man hath propounded to himself the 
general state of learning to be described and represented 


* Vid. Cic. de Of. i. 16. 

, s vi r g. v . 231. 


Triple dis¬ 
tribution of 
Human 
Learning: 
and first of 
Natural 
History. 


4 Prov. xxii. 13. 



69 


Want of a good Literary History. 

from age to age, as many have done the works of nature, 
and the state civil and ecclesiastical; without which the 
history of the world seemeth to me to be as the statua of 
Polyphemus with his eye out; that part being wanting 
which doth most show the spirit and life of the person: 
and yet I am not ignorant that in divers particular sciences, 
as of the jurisconsults, the mathematicians, the rhetori¬ 
cians, the philosophers, there are set down some small 
memorials of the schools, authors, and books; and so like¬ 
wise some barren relations touching the invention of arts 
or usages. But a just story of learning, containing the 
antiquities and originals of knowledges and their sects, 
their inventions, their traditions, their diverse administra¬ 
tions and managings, their flourishings, their oppositions, 
decays, depressions, oblivions, removes, with the causes 
and occasions of them, and all other events concerning 
learning, throughout the ages of the world, I may truly 
affirm to be wanting. The use and end of which work 
I do not so much design for curiosity or satisfaction of 
those that are the lovers of learning, but chiefly for a more 
serious and grave purpose; which is this, in a few words, 
that it will make learned men wise in the use and admi¬ 
nistration of learning. For it is not St. Augustine’s nor 
St. Ambrose’s works that will make so wise a divine, as 
ecclesiastical history, thoroughly read and observed; and 
the same reason is of learning. 

3. History of nature is of three sorts; of nature in 
course , of nature erring or varying , and of nature altered 
or wrought; that is, history of creatures, history of marvels, 
and history of arts. The first of these, no doubt, is 
extant, and that in good perfection; the two latter are 
handled so weakly and unprofitably, as I am moved to 
note them as deficient. For I find no sufficient or com¬ 
petent collection of the works of nature which have a 
digression and deflexion from the ordinary course of 
generations, productions, and motions; whether they be 
singularities of place and region, or the strange events of 
time and chance, or the effects of yet unknown properties, 
or the instances of exception to general kinds. It is true, 
I find a number of books of fabulous experiments and 
secrets, and frivolous impostures for pleasure and strange¬ 
ness ; but a substantial and severe collection of the hetero- 
elites or irregulars of nature, well examined and described, 
I find not: especially not with due rejection of fables and 
popular errors: for as things now are, if an untruth in 
nature be once on foot, what by reason of the neglect of 


70 How the Historian should deal with Marvels. 

examination, and countenance of antiquity, and what by 
reason of the use of the opinion in similitudes and orna¬ 
ments of speech, it is never called down. 

4. The use of this work, honoured with a precedent in 
Aristotle, 6 is nothing less than to give contentment to the 
appetite of curious and vain wits, as the manner of Mira- 
bilaries is to do; but for two reasons, both of great weight; 
the one to correct the partiality of axioms and opinions, 
which are commonly framed only upon common and familiar 
examples; the other because from the wonders of nature is 
the nearest intelligence and passage towards the wonders 
of art: for it is no more but by following, and as it were 
hounding nature in her wanderings, to be able to lead her 
afterwards to the same place again. Neither am I of 
opinion, in this history of marvels, that superstitious nar¬ 
rations of sorceries, witchcrafts, dreams, divinations, and 
the like, where there is an assurance and clear evidence of 
the fact, be altogether excluded. For it is not yet known 
in what cases and how far effects attributed to superstition 
do participate of natural causes : and therefore howsoever 
the practice of such things is to be condemned, yet from 
the speculation and consideration of them light may be 
taken, not only for the discerning of the offences, but for 
the further disclosing of nature. Neither ought a man to 
make scruple of entering into these things for inquisition 
of truth, as your majesty hath showed in your own example; 
who with tne two clear eyes of religion and natural philo¬ 
sophy have looked deeply and wisely into these shadows, 
and yet proved yourself to be of the nature of the sun, 
which passeth through pollutions, and itself remains as 
pure as before. But this I hold fit, that these narrations, 
which have mixture with superstition, be sorted by them¬ 
selves, and not be mingled with the narrations which are 
merely and sincerely natural. But as for the narrations 
touching the prodigies and miracles of religions, they are 
either not true, or t not natural; and therefore impertinent 
for the story of nature. 

5. For history of nature wrought or mechanical, I find 
some collections made of agriculture, and likewise of 
manual arts ; but commonly with a rejection of experiments 
familiar and vulgar. For it is esteemed a kind of dishonour 
unto learning to descend to inquiry or meditation upon 
matters mechanical, except they be such as may be thought 


See above, page 30. 



Value of minute Inquiries in Natural Science. 71 

secrets, rarities, and special subtilties; which humour of 
vain and supercilious arrogancy is justly derided in Plato; 
where he brings in Hippias, a vaunting sophist, disputing 
with Socrates, a true and unfeigned inquisitor of truth; 
where the subject being touching beauty, Socrates, after 
his wandering manner of inductions, put first an example of 
a fair virgin, and then of a fair horse, and then of a fair pot 
well glazed, whereat Hippias was offended, and said, More 
than for courtesy’s sake, he did think much to dispute with 
any that did allege such base and sordid instances: where- 
unto Socrates answered, You have reason , and it becomes 
you well , being a man so trim in your vestments , Sfc., and so 
goeth on in an irony. 7 But the truth is, they be not the 
highest instances that give the securest information; as 
may be well expressed in the tale so common of the philo¬ 
sopher, 8 that while he gazed upwards to the stars fell into 
the water; for if he had looked down he might have seen 
the stars in the water, but looking aloft he could not see 
the water in the stars. So it cometh often to pass, that 
mean and small things discover great, better than great can 
discover the small: and therefore Aristotle noteth well, 
That the nature of everything is best seen in its smallest 
portions . 9 And for that cause he inquireth the nature of 
a commonwealth, first in a family, and the simple conjuga¬ 
tions of man and wife, parent and child, master and servant, 
which are in every cottage. Even so likewise the nature of 
this great city of the world, and the policy thereof, must 
be first sought in mean concordances and small portions. 
So we see how that secret of nature, of the turning of iron 
touched with the loadstone towards the north, was found 
out in needles of iron, not in bars of iron. 

6. But if my judgment be of any weight, the use of 
history mechanical is of all others the most radical and 
fundamental towards natural philosophy ; such natural phi¬ 
losophy as shall not vanish in the fume of subtile, sublime, 
or delectable speculation, but such as shall be operative to 
the endowment and benefit of man’s life: for it will not 
only minister and suggest for the present many ingenious 
practices in all trades, by a connexion and transferring 
of the observations of one art to the use of another, when 
the experiences of several mysteries shall fall under the 
consideration of one man’s mind; but further, it will give 


' Plato, Hipp. Map iii. 291. 

8 Thales. See Plat. Theaet. i. 174. 

» Aristot. Folit. i., and Phys. i., both ad init. 




72 


Various kinds of Civil History. 


a more true and real illumination concerning causes and 
axioms than is hitherto attained. For like as a man’s dis¬ 
position is never well known till he be crossed, nor Proteus 
ever changed shapes till he was straitened and held fast j 1 
so the passages and variations of nature cannot appear so 
fully in the liberty of nature, as in the trials and vexations 
of art. 

Of Civil II- 1- For civil history, it is of three kinds ; 

History. n0 ^ unfitly to be compared with the three 
kinds of pictures or images : for of pictures or 
images, we see, some are unfinished, some are perfect, and 
some are defaced. So of histories we may find three 
kinds, memorials,perfect histories, and antiquities; for me¬ 
morials are history unfinished, or the first or rough 
draughts of history; and antiquities are history defaced, 
or some remnants of history which have casually escaped 
the shipwreck of time. 

2. Memorials, or preparatory history, are of two sorts ; 
whereof the one may be termed commentaries, and the 
other registers. Commentaries are they which set down 
a continuance of the naked events and actions, without the 
motives or designs, the counsels, the speeches, the pre¬ 
texts, the occasions and other passages of action : for this 
is the true nature of a commentary; though Caesar, in 
modesty mixed with greatness, did for his pleasure apply 
the name of a commentary to the best history of the world. 
Registers are collections of public acts, as decrees of coun¬ 
cil, judicial proceedings, declarations and letters of state, 
orations and the like, without a perfect continuance or 
contexture of the thread of the narration. 

3. Antiquities, or remnants of history, are, as was said, 
Tanquam tabula naufragii: when industrious persons, by 
an exact and scrupulous diligence and observation, out of 
monuments, names, words, proverbs, traditions, private 
records and evidences, fragments of stories, passages of 
books that concern not story, and the like, do save and 
recover somewhat from the deluge of time. 

In these kinds of unperfect histories I do assign no 
deficience, for they are Tanquam imperfecte mista; and 
therefore any deficience in them is but their nature. As 
for the corruptions and moths of history, which are 
epitomes, the use of them deserveth to be banished, as 
all men of sound judgment have confessed; as those that 
have fretted and corroded the sound bodies of many excel- 


1 Virg. Georg, iv. 386, se<p 




History of Times, Persons, and Actions. 73 

lent histories, and wrought them into base and unprofitable 
dregs. 

4. History, which may be called just and perfect his¬ 
tory, is of three kinds, according to the object which it 
propoundeth, or pretendeth to represent: for it either 
representeth a time, or a person, or an action. The first 
we call chronicles, the second lives, and the third narra¬ 
tions or relations. Of these, although the first be the 
most complete and absolute kind of history, and hath most 
estimation and glory, yet the second excelleth it in profit 
and use, and the third in verity and sincerity. For history 
of times representeth the magnitude of actions, and the 
public faces and deportments of persons, and passeth over 
in silence the smaller passages and motions of men and 
matters. But such being the workmanship of God, as He 
doth hang the greatest weight upon the smallest wires, 
Maxima e minimis suspendens, it comes therefore to pass, 
that such histories do rather set forth the pomp of business 
than the true and inward resorts thereof. But lives, if 
they be well written, propounding to themselves a person 
to represent in whom actions both greater and smaller, 
public and private, have a commixture, must of necessity 
contain a more true, native, and lively representation. So 
again narrations and relations of actions, as the war of 
Peloponnesus, the expedition of Cyrus Minor, the con¬ 
spiracy of Cataline, cannot but be more purely and exactly 
true than histories of times, because they may choose an 
argument comprehensible within the notice and instruc¬ 
tions of the writer : -whereas he that undertaketh the story 
of a time, especially of any length, cannot but meet with 
many blanks and spaces which he must be forced to fill up 
out of his own wit and conjecture. 

5. For the History of Times, I mean of Civil History, the 
providence of God hath made the distribution: for it hath 
pleased God to ordain and illustrate two exemplar states of 
the world for arms, learning, moral virtue, policy, and laws ; 
the state of Grsecia, and the state of Rome; the histories 
whereof occupying the middle part of time, have more 
ancient to them, histories which may by one common name 
be termed the antiquities of the worid: and after them, 
histories which may be likewise called by the name of 
modern history. 

6. Now to speak of the deficiencies. As to the heathen 
antiquities of the world, it is in vain to note them for 
deficient: deficient they are no doubt, consisting most of 
fables and fragments; but the deficience cannot be holpen; 


74 Scantiness of Modern Histories ; 

for antiquity is like fame, Caput inter nubila condit , 2 lier 
head is muffled from our sight. For the history of the j 
exemplar states, it is extant in good perfection. Not but 
I could wish there were a perfect course of history for 
GrsGcia from Theseus to Philopcemen, (what time the affairs 
of Grsecia were drowned and extinguished in the affairs of 
Rome ;) and for Rome from Romulus to Justinianus, who 
may be truly said to be Ultimus Romanorum. In which 
sequences of story the text of Thucydides and Xenophon 
in the one, and the texts of Livius, Polybius, Sallustius, j 
Caesar, Appianus, Tacitus, Herodianus in the other, to be 
kept entire without any diminution at all, and only to be i 
supplied and continued. But this is matter of magnificence, 
rather to be commended than required: and we speak now 
of parts of learning supplemental and not of super- 1 
erogation. 

7. But for modern histories, whereof there are some few ■ 
very worthy, but the greater part beneath mediocrity, ; 
(leaving the care of foreign stories to foreign states, because ' 
I will not be curiosus in aliena republica ,) I cannot fail to j 
represent to your Majesty the unworthiness of the history i 
of England in the main continuance thereof, and the j 
partiality and obliquity of that of Scotland in the latest and 
largest author that I have seen: supposing that it would 
be honour for your Majesty, and a work very memorable, 
if this island of Great Britain, as it is now joined in 
monarchy for the ages to come, so were joined in one 
history for the times passed; after the manner of the Sacred 
History, which draweth down the story of the ten tribes and 
of the two tribes, as twins, together. And if it shall seem 
that the greatness of this work may make it less exactly 
performed, there is an excellent period of a much smaller 
compass of time, as to the story of England; that is to 
say, from the uniting of the Roses to the uniting of the 
kingdoms ; a portion of time, wherein, to my understand¬ 
ing, there hath been the rarest varieties that in like number 
of successions of any hereditary monarchy hath been known. 
For it beginneth with the mixed adoption of a crown by 
arms and title: an entry by battle, an establishment by 
marriage, and therefore times answerable, like waters after 
a tempest, full of working and swelling, though without 
extremity of storm; but well passed through by the wisdom 
of the pilot, being one of the most sufficient kings of all 
the number. Then followeth the reign of a king, whose 


8 Virg. cRn. iv. 177. 





Of Biographies; 75 

actions, howsoever conducted, had much intermixture with 
the affairs of Europe, balancing and inclining them variably; 
in whose time also began that great alteration in the state 
ecclesiastical, an action which seldom cometh upon the 
stage. Then the reign of a minor: then an offer of a 
usurpation, though it was but as fehris ephemera. Then the 
reign of a queen matched with a foreigner: then of a queen 
that lived solitary and unmarried, and yet her government 
so masculine, that it had greater impression and operation 
upon the states abroad than it any ways received from 
thence. And now last, this most happy and glorious event, 
that this island of Britain, divided from all the world, 
should be united in itself: and that oracle of rest, given to 
vEneas, antiquam exquirite matrem , 3 should now be per¬ 
formed and fulfilled upon the nations of England and 
Scotland, being now reunited in the ancient mother name 
of Britain, as a full period of all instability and peregrina¬ 
tions. So that as it cometh to pass in massive bodies, that 
they have certain trepidations and waverings before they 
fix and settle; so it seemeth that by the providence of 
God this monarchy, before it was to settle in your majesty 
and your generations, (in which, I hope, it is now 
established for ever,) had these prelusive changes and 
varieties. 

8. For lives, I do find it strange that these times have so 
little esteemed the virtues of the times, as that the writing 
of lives should be no more frequent. For although there 
be not many sovereign princes or absolute commanders, 
and that states are most collected into monarchies, yet are 
there many worthy personages that deserve better than 
dispersed report or barren eulogies. For herein the inven¬ 
tion of one of the late poets is proper, and doth well enrich 
the ancient fiction: for he feigneth that at the end of 
the thread or web of every man’s life there was a little 
medal containing the person’s name, and that Time waited 
upon the shears ; and as soon as the thread was cut, caught 
the medals, and carried them to the river of Lethe; and 
about the bank there were many birds flying up and 
down, that would get the medals and carry them in their 
beak a little while, and then let them fall into the river : 
only there were a few swans, which if they got a name, 
would carry it to a temple where it was consecrate. And 
although many men, more mortal in their affections 


8 Virg. Mn. iii. 96. 




76 Of Narratives of great Actions. 

than in their bodies, do esteem desire of name and memory 
but as a vanity and ventosity, 

Animi nil magnae laudis egeutes; 4 

which opinion cometh from that root, Non prius laudes 
contempsimus, quam laudanda facere desivimus: yet that 
will not alter Solomon’s judgment, Memoriajusti cum laudi- 
bus, at impiorum nomen putrescet : 5 the one flourisheth, the 
other either consumeth to present oblivion, or turneth to 
an ill odour. And therefore in that style or addition, which 
is and hath been long well received and brought in use, 
Felicis memorice, pice memorice, bonce memorice, we do ac¬ 
knowledge that which Cicero saith, borrowing it from 
Demosthenes, that Bona fama propria possessio defunc- 
torum ; 6 which possession I cannot but note that in our 
times it lieth much waste, and that therein there is a 
deficience. 

9. Dor narrations and relations of particular actions, 
there wore also to be wished a greater diligence therein; 
for there is no great action but hath some good pen which 
attends it. And because it is an ability not common to 
write a good history, as may well appear by the small 
number of them : yet if particularity of actions memorable 
were but tolerably reported as they pass, the compiling of 
a complete history of times mought be the better expected, 
when a writer should arise that were fit for it: for the 
collection of such relations mought be as a nursery garden, 
whereby to plant a fair and stately garden, when time 
should serve. 

10. There is yet another portion of history which 
Cornelius Tacitus maketh, which is not to be forgotten, 
especially with that application which he accoupleth it 
withal, annals and journals: appropriating to the former 
matters of estate, and to the latter acts and accidents of a 
meaner nature. Dor giving but a touch of certain magni¬ 
ficent buildings, he addeth, Cum ex dignitate populi JRo- 
mani repertum sit, res illustres annalibus talia diurnis 
urbis actis mandare? So as there is a kind of contempla¬ 
tive heraldry, as well as civil. 

And as nothing doth derogate from the dignity of a 
state more than confusion of degrees; so it doth not a 
little embase the authority of a history, to intermingle 
matters of triumph, or matters of ceremony, or matters of 


4 JEn. v. 751. 

6 Deraostli. adv. Lept. 488. 


5 Prov. x. 7. 

7 Tac. Annal. xiii. 31. 



Critical Histories. Modern Discoveries; 77 

novelty, with matters of state. But the use of a journal 
hath not only been in the history of time, but likewise in 
the history of persons, and chiefly of actions; for princes 
in ancient time had, upon point of honour and policy both, 
journals kept of what passed day by day: for we see the 
chronicle which was read before Ahasuerus, 8 when he could 
not take rest, contained matter of affairs indeed, but such 
as had passed in his own time, and very lately before : but 
the journal of Alexander’s house expressed every small 
particularity, even concerning his person and court; and 
it is yet a use well received in enterprises memorable, as 
expeditions of war, navigations, and the like, to keep 
diaries of that which passeth continually. 

11. I cannot likewise be ignorant of a form of writing 
which some grave and wise men have used, containing a 
scattered history of those actions which they have thought 
worthy of memory, with politic discourse and observation 
thereupon: not incorporate into the history, but sepa¬ 
rately, and as the more principal in their intention; which 
kind of ruminated history I think more fit to place amongst 
books of policy, whereof we shall hereafter speak, than 
amongst books of history : for it is the true office of history 
to represent the events themselves together with the 
counsels, and to leave the observations and conclusions 
thereupon to the liberty and faculty of every man’s judg¬ 
ment. But mixtures are things irregular, whereof no man 
can define. 

12. So also is there another kind of history manifoldly 
mixed, and that is history of cosmography: being com¬ 
pounded of natural history, in respect of the regions 
themselves; of history civil, in respect of the habitations, 
regiments, and manners of the people; and the mathematics, 
in respect of the climates and configurations towards the 
heavens : which part of learning of all others, in this latter 
time, hath obtained most proficience. For it may be truly 
affirmed to the honour of these times, and in a virtuous 
emulation with antiquity, that this great building of the 
world had never thorough lights made in it, till the age of 
us and our fathers: for although they had knowledge of 
the Antipodes, 

Nosque nbi primus equis Oiiens afflavit anhelis, 

Illic sera rubens accendit lumina Vesper 


s Estli. vi. 1. 

s> See Plutarcb. Sympos. i., Qu. 6, and Vil. Alex. c. 23, 76, et 
passim. 1 Virg. Georg. i. 251. 



78 Prospect of Advancement in Science. 

yet that moughtbe by demonstration, and not in fact; an 
if by travel, it requireth the voyage but of half the glob< 
But to circle the earth, as the heavenly bodies do, was nc- r 
done nor enterprised till these latter times: and therf 
fore these times may justly bear in their word, not onl 
plus ultra, in precedence of the ancient non ultra, an 
imitabile fulmen, in precedence of the ancient non imitabit c 
fulmen, 

Demens qui nimbos et non imitabile fulmen ; 2 &c. 

but likewise imitabile ccelum; in respect of the man 
memorable voyages after the manner of heaven about tin 
globe of the earth. 

13. And this proficience in navigation and discovers 
may plant also an expectation of the further proficient: 
and augmentation of all sciences; because it may seei 
they are ordained by God to be coevals, that is, to meet in 
one age. For so the prophet Daniel, speaking of tl 
latter times, foretelleth P lurimipertransibunt, et multiple 
erit scientia : 3 as if the openness and thorough passage < f 
the world and the increase of knowledge were appointed 1 
be in the same ages; as we see it is already performed i 
great part: the learning of these latter times not muc 1 
giving place to the former two periods or returns of learr 
ing, the one of the Grecians, the other of the Romans. 

III. 1. History ecclesiastical receiveth tl . 
Ecclesiasti- same divisions with history civil: but furthe 
cal History. * n ^ ie p r0 p r [ e ty thereof, may be divided ini 
the history of the church, by a general name; history . 
prophecy; and history of providence. The first describet 
the times of the militant church, whether it be fluctuan 
as the ark of Noah; or moveable, as the ark in tb 
wilderness; or at rest, as the ark in the temple: that i 
the state of the church in persecution, in remove, and i 
peace. This part I ought in no sort to note as deficienl 
only I would that the virtue and sincerity of it wei 
according to the mass and quantity. But I am not no 
in hand with censures, but with omissions. 

2. The second, which is history of prophecy, consisted, 
of two relatives, the prophecy, and the accomplishment. 
and therefore the nature of such a work ought to be, tin 
every prophecy of the Scripture be sorted with the ever 1 
fulfilling the same, throughout the ages of the world; bot 
for better confirmation of faith, and for the better illu ■ 


AEn. vi. 590. 


3 Dan xii. 4. 



History of Providence. Appendices to History. 79 

urination of tlie Church touching those parts of prophecies 
which, are yet unfulfilled : allowing nevertheless that lati¬ 
tude which is agreeable and familiar unto divine prophecies; 
being of the nature of their Author, with whom a thousand 
years are but as one day; 4 and therefore are not fulfilled 
punctually at once, but have springing and germinant 
accomplishment throughout many ages; though the height 
or fulness of them may refer to some one age. This is a 
work which I find deficient; but is to be done with 
wisdom, sobriety, and reverence, or not at all. 

3. The third, which is history of providence, containeth 
that excellent correspondence which is between God’s 
revealed will and His secret will: which though it be so 
obscure, as for the most part it is not legible to the natural 
man ;* no, nor many times to those that behold it from 
the Tabernacle; yet at some times it pleaseth God, for 
our better establishment and the confuting of those which 
are as without God in the world, to write it in such text 
and capital letters, that as the prophet saith, lie that 
runneth by may read it f that is, mere sensual persons, 
which hasten by God’s judgments, and never bend or 
fix their cogitations upon them, are nevertheless in their 
passage and race urged to discern it. Such are the 
notable events and examples of God’s judgment's, chas¬ 
tisements, deliverances, and blessings : and this is a work 
which hath passed through the labour of many, and 
therefore I cannot present as omitted. 

4. There are also other parts of learning which are 
appendices to history: for all the exterior proceedings of 
man consist of words and deeds: whereof history doth 
properly receive and retain in memory the deeds : and if 
words, yet but as inducements and passages to deeds: so are 
there other books and writings, which are appropriate to 
the custody and receipt of words only: which likewise are 
of three sorts: orations, letters, and brief speeches or 
sayings. Orations are pleadings, speeches of counsel, 
laudatives, invectives, apologies, reprehensions, orations of 
formality or ceremony, and the like. Letters are according 
to all the variety of occasions, advertisements, advices, 
directions, propositions, petitions, commendatory, expos- 
tulatory, satisfactory; of compliment, of pleasure, of dis¬ 
course, and all other passages of action. And such as are 
written from wise men, are of all the words of man, in my 
judgment, the best; for they are more natural than 


* 1 Cor. ii. 14. 


s Ej-ih. ii. 12. 


6 Habak. ii. 2 



80 


Feigned History a kind of Poetry ; 



orations and public speeches, and more advised than con¬ 
ferences or present speeches. So again letters of affairs 
from such as manage them, or are privy to them, are of all 
others the best instructions for history, and to a diligent 
reader the best histories in themselves. For apophthegms, 
it is a great loss of that book of Caesar’s ; 7 for as his history, 
and those few letters of his which we have, and those 
apophthegms which were of his own, excel all men’s else, 
so I suppose would his collection of Apophthegms have 
done; for as for those which are collected by others, 
either I have no taste in such matters, or else their choice 
hath not been happy. But upon these three kinds of 
writings I do not insist, because I have no deficiencies to 
propound concerning them. 

Thus much therefore concerning history; which is that 
part of learning which answereth to one of the cells, 
domiciles, or offices of the mind of man: which is that of 
the memory. 

p ,. IV. 1 . Poesy is a part of learning in mea- 

° e sure of words for the most part restrained, 

but in all other points extremely licensed, and doth truly 
refer to the imagination; which, being not tied to the 
laws of matter, may at pleasure join that which nature 
hath severed, and sever that which nature hath joined; and 
so make unlawful matches anddivorces of things; Pictoribus 
atque jpoetis , Sfc . 8 It is taken in two senses in respect of 
words or matter; in the first sense it is but a character of 
style, and belongeth to arts of speech, and is not pertinent 
for the present: in the latter it is, as hath been said, one 
of the principal portions of learning, and is nothing else 
but feigned history, which may be styled as well in prose 
as in verse. 

2. The use of this feigned history hath been to give 
some shadow of satisfaction to the mind of man in those 
points wherein the nature of things doth deny it, the 
world being in proportion inferior to the soul; by reason 
whereof there is, agreeable to the spirit of man, a more 
ample greatness, a more exact goodness, and a more abso¬ 
lute variety, than can be found in the nature of things. 
Therefore, because the acts or events of true history have 
not that magnitude which satisfieth the mind of man, 
poesy feigneth acts and events greater and more heroical: 
because true history propoundeth the successes and issues 


7 Vid. Cic. ad Fam. ix. 16; and Siieton. Vit. Cces. 

8 Hor. Ep. ad Pis. 9. 



81 


Divisions of Poetry. 

of actions not so agreeable to tbe merits of virtue and vice, 
therefore poesy feigns them more just in retribution, and 
more according to revealed providence: because true 
history represented actions and events more ordinary, 
and less interchanged, therefore poesy endueth them with 
more rareness, and more unexpected and alternative varia¬ 
tions : so as it appeared that poesy served and conferred 
to magnanimity, morality, and to delectation. And there¬ 
fore it was ever thought to have some participation of 
divineness, because it doth raise and erect the mind, by 
submitting the shows of things to the desires of the mind; 
whereas reason doth buckle and bow the mind unto the 
nature of things. And we see, that by these insinuations 
and congruities with man’s nature and pleasure, joined 
also with the agreement and consort it hath with music, it 
hath had access and estimation in rude times and barbarous 
regions, where other learning stood excluded. 

3. The division of Poesy which is aptest in the propriety 
thereof, (besides those divisions which are common unto it 
with history, as feigned chronicles, feigned lives, and the 
appendices of history, as feigned epistles, feigned orations, 
and the rest) is into poesy narrative, representative, and 
allusive. The Narrative is a mere imitation of history, 
with the excesses before remembered; choosing for subject 
commonly wars and love, rarely state, and sometimes plea¬ 
sure or mirth. Representative is as a visible history; and 
is an image of actions as if they were present, as history 
is of actions in nature as they are, that is past. Allusive 
or Parabolical is a Narrative applied only to express 
some special purpose or conceit: which latter kind of 
parabolical wisdom was much more in use in the ancient 
times, as by the fables of JEsop, and the brief sentences of 
the Seven, and the use of hieroglyphics may appear. And 
the cause was, for that it was then of necessity to express 
any point of reason which was more sharp or subtile than 
the vulgar in that manner, because men in those times 
wanted both variety of examples and subtilty of conceit: 
and as hieroglyphics were before letters, so parables were 
before arguments : and nevertheless now, and at all times, 
they do retain much life and vigour; because reason can¬ 
not be so sensible, nor examples so fit. 

4. But there remaineth yet another use of Poesy Para¬ 
bolical, opposite to that which we last mentioned: for that 
tendeth to demonstrate and illustrate that which is taught 
or delivered, and this other to retire and obscure it: that 

G 


82 


Expositions of Ancient Fables. 

is, when the secrets and mysteries of religion, policy, or 
philosophy, are involved in fables or parables. Of this in 
divine poesy we see the use is authorized. In heathen 
poesy we see the exposition of fables doth fall out some¬ 
times with great felicity; as in the fable that the giants 
being overthrown in their war against the gods, the earth 
their mother in revenge thereof brought forth Fame : 

Illam terra parens, ira irritata Deorum, 

Extremam, ut perliibent Cceo Enceladoque sororem, 

Progenuit. 9 

expounded, that when princes and monarchs have sup¬ 
pressed actual and open rebels, then the malignity of the 
people, which is the mother of rebellion, doth bring forth 
libels and slanders, and taxations of the states, which is of 
the same kind with rebellion, but more feminine. So in 
the fable, that the rest of the gods having conspired to 
bind Jupiter, Pallas * 1 called Briareus with his hundred hands 
to his aid, expounded, that monarchies need not fear any 
curbing of their absoluteness by mighty subjects, as long 
as by wisdom they keep the hearts of the people, who will 
be sure to come in on their side. So in the fable, that 
Achilles was brought up under Chiron the Centaur, who 
was part a man and part a beast, expounded ingeniously 
but corruptly by Machiavel, 2 that it belongeth to the educa¬ 
tion and discipline of princes to know as well how to play 
the part of the lion in violence, and the fox in guile, as of 
the man in virtue and justice. Nevertheless, in many the 
like encounters, I do rather think that the fable was first, 
and the exposition devised, than that the moral was first, 
and thereupon the fable framed. For I find it was an 
ancient vanity in Chrysippus, that troubled himself with 
great contention to fasten the assertions of the Stoics upon 
the fictions of the ancient poets ; but yet that all the fables 
and fictions of the poets were but pleasure and not figure, 
I interpose no opinion. Surely of those poets which are 
now extant, even Homer himself (notwithstanding he was 
made a kind of Scripture by the latter schools of the Gre¬ 
cians,) yet I should without any difficulty pronounce that 
his fables had no such inwardness in his own meaning; but 
what they might have upon a more original tradition, is 


9 Virg. J£n. iv. 179. 

1 Not Pallas, but Tlietis, Horn. II. A. 398 seq. 

2 Horn. II. A. 831, and Machiav. Prince , c. 18. 



In Poetry no Dejicience. 83 

not easy to affirm; for lie was not the inventor of many of 
them. 

5. In this third part of learning, which is poesy, I can 
report no deficience. For being as a plant that cometh of 
the lust of the earth, without a formal seed, it hath sprung 
up and spread abroad more than any other kind. Hut to 
ascribe unto it that which is due, for the expressing of 
affections, passions, corruptions, and customs, we are 
beholding to poets more than to the philosophers’ works; 
and for wit and eloquence, not much less than to orators’ 
harangues. But it is not good to stay too long in the 
theatre. Let us now pass on to the judicial place or palace 
of the mind, which we are to approach and view with more 
reverence and attention. 3 

Y. 1. The knowledge of man is as the 
waters, some descending from above, and Knowledge 
some springing from beneath; the one in- .”!* i.*2 r * 
formed by the light of nature, the other n -. and 
inspired by divine revelation. The light of philosophy; 
nature consisteth in the notions of the mind 
and the reports of the senses : for as for knowledge which 
man receiveth by teaching, it is cumulative and not original; 
as in a water that, besides his own spring-head, is fed with 
other springs and streams. So then, according to these 
two differing illuminations or originals, knowledge is first 
of all divided into divinity and philosophy. 

2. In Philosophy, the contemplations of 
man do either penetrate unto God,—or are e . a ter °J 
circumferred to nature,—or are reflected or Semites^ 
reverted upon himself. Out of which several trec w - t ^ 
inquiries there do arise three knowledges, three main 
divine philosophy, natural philosophy, and i ranc hes. 
human philosophy or humanity. For all 
things are marked and stamped with this triple character, 
of the power of God, the difference of nature, and the use 
of man. But because the distributions and partitions of 
knowledge are not like several lines that meet in one angle, 
and so touch but in a point; but are like branches of a 
tree, that meet in a stem, which hath a dimension and 


3 In the Latin edition this discourse on poetry is touch enlarged, 
chiefly with examples of Poesy Parabolical; of which he selects 
three, the fables of Pan, of Perseus, and of Dionysius, to show 
respectively how physical, political, and moral doctrines were thus 
delivered. The next chapter begins the third book. 



84 


How the Elements of all Arts may be 

quantity of entireness and continuance, before it come to 
discontinue and break itself into arms and boughs : there¬ 
fore it is good, before we enter into the former distribu¬ 
tion, to erect and constitute one universal science, by the 
name of philosophia prima, primitive or summary philo¬ 
sophy, as the main and common way, before we come 
where the ways part and divide themselves ; which science 
whether I should report as deficient or no, I stand doubt¬ 
ful. For I find a certain rhapsody of natural theology, 
and of divers parts of logic; and of that part of natural 
philosophy which concerneth the principles: and of that 
other part of natural philosophy which concerneth the 
soul or spirit: all these strangely commixed and confused; 
but being examined, it seemeth to me rather a depredation 
of other sciences, advanced and exalted unto some height 
of terms, than anything solid or substantive of itself. 
Nevertheless I cannot be ignorant of the distinction which 
is current, that the same things are handled but in several 
respects. As for example, that logic considereth of many 
things as they are in notion, and this philosophy as they 
are in nature; the one in appearance, the other in exist¬ 
ence ; but I find this difference better made than pursued. 
For if they had considered quantity, similitude, diversity, 
and the rest of those extern characters of things, as phi¬ 
losophers, and in nature, their inquiries must of force 
have been of a far other kind than they are. For doth any 
of them, in handling quantity, speak of the force of union, 
how and how far it multiplieth virtue? Doth any give 
the reason, why some things in nature are so common, and 
in so great mass, and others so rare, and in so small quan¬ 
tity? Doth any, in handling similitude and diversity, 
assign the cause why iron should not move to iron, which 
is more like, but move to the load-stone, which is less like? 
Why in all diversities of things there should be certain 
participles in nature, which are almost ambiguous to which 
kind they should be referred ? But there is a mere and 
deep silence touching the nature and operation of those 
common adjuncts of things, as in nature: and only a 
resuming and repeating of the force and use of them in 
speech or argument. Therefore, because in a writing of 
this nature, I avoid all subtilty, my meaning touching this 
original or universal philosophy is thus, in a plain and 
gross description by negative : That it he a receptacle for 
all such profitable observations and axioms as fall not 
within the compass of any of the special parts of phi- 


gathered tinder one Universal Science. 85 

losophy or sciences, but are more common and of a higher 
stage. 

3. Now that there are many of that kind need not to 
be doubted. For example : is not the rule, Si incequalibus 
cequalia addas, omnia erunt incequalia, an axiom as well of 
justice as of the mathematics? and is there not a true 
coincidence between commutative and distributive justice, 
and arithmetical and geometrical proportion ? Is not that 
other rule, Quce in eodem tertio conveniunt, et inter se con- 
veniunt, 4 * a rule taken from the mathematics, but so potent 
in logic as all syllogisms are built upon it ? Is not the 
observation, Omnia mutantur, nil interit, b a contemplation 
in philosophy thus, that the quantum of nature is eternal ? 
in natural theology thus, that it requireth the same Omni¬ 
potence to make somewhat nothing, which at the first made 
nothing somewhat? according to the Scripture, Didici 
quod omnia opera, quce fecit Deus, perseverent inperpetuum; 
non possumus eis quicquam addere nec auferre . 6 Is not the 
ground, which Machiavel wisely and largely discourseth 
concerning governments, that the way to establish and pre¬ 
serve them, is to reduce them ad principia, a rule in 
religion and nature, as well as in civil administration? 7 
Was not the Persian magic a reduction or correspondence 
of the principles and architectures of nature to the rules 
and policy of governments ? Is not the precept of a musi¬ 
cian, to fall from a discord or harsh accord upon a concord 
or sweet accord, alike true in affection ? Is not the trope 
of music, to avoid or slide from the close or cadence, 
common with the trope of rhetoric of deceiving expecta¬ 
tion? Is not the delight of the quavering upon a stop in 
music the same with the playing of light upon the water ? 

Splendet tremulo sub lumine pontus. 8 

Are not the organs of the senses of one kind with the 
organs of reflection, the eye with a glass, the ear with a 
cave or strait determined and bounded? Neither are 
these only similitudes, as men of narrow observation may 
conceive them to be, but the same footsteps of nature, 
treading or printing upon several subjects or matters. 


4 See Whately, Logic , book ii. c. 3, § 1. On Arguments. 

8 Cf. Plat. Theaet.'i. 152.' 

6 The passage referred to appears to be Ecclus. xlii. 21. 

7 Discourse on Livy, iii. 1. (quoted above, p.19.) 

8 Virg. jfln. vii. 9. 



86 


The Light of Nature declares the Existence 


First 

Branch of 
Divine Phi¬ 
losophy. 


This science, therefore, as I understand it, I may justly 
report as deficient: for I see sometimes the profounder 
sort of wits, in handling some particular argument, will 
now and then draw a bucket of water out of this well for 
their present use ; but the spring-head thereof seemeth to 
me not to have been visited: being of so excellent use, 
both for the disclosing of nature, and the abridgment 
of art. 

This science being therefore first placed as a common 
parent like unto Berecynthia, which had so much heavenly 
issue, omnes Ccelicolas, omnes super a alta tenentes : 9 we may 
return to the former distribution of the three philosophies, 
divine, natural, and human. 

VI. 1. And as concerning divine 'philoso¬ 
phy or natural theology, it is that knowledge 
or rudiment of knowledge concerning God, 
which may be obtained by the contemplation 
of His creatures; which knowledge may be 
truly termed divine in respect of the object, and natural in 
respect of the light. The bounds of this knowledge are, 
that it sufficeth to convince atheism, but not to inform 
religion: and therefore there was never miracle wrought 
by God to convert an atheist, because the light of nature 
might have led him to confess a God: but miracles have 
been wrought to convert idolaters and the superstitious, 
because no light of nature extendeth to declare the v ill and 
true worship of God. For as all works do show forth the 
power and skill of the workman, and not his image ; so it 
is of the works of God, which do show the omnipotency 
and wisdom of the Maker, but not his image : and there¬ 
fore therein the heathen opinion differeth from the sacred 
truth; for they supposed the world to be the image of 
God, and man to be an extract or compendious image of 
the world; but the Scriptures never vouchsafe to attribute 
to the world that honour, as to be the image of God, but 
only the work of his hands:' neither do they speak of any 
other image of God, but man: wherefore by the contem¬ 
plation of nature to induce and enforce the acknowledg¬ 
ment of God, and to demonstrate His power, providence, 
and goodness, is an excellent argument, and hath been 
excellently handled by divers. 

2. But on the other side, out of the contemplation of 
nature, or ground of human knowledge, to induce any 


Virg. 2En. vi. 787. 


1 Ps. viii. 3, cii. 25, et al. 



of God, but not the Mysteries of Faith. 87 

verity or persuasion concerning the points of faith, is in 
my judgment not safe : Da fidei qucefidei sunt. For the 
heathens themselves conclude as much in that excellent 
and divine fable of the golden chain: That men and gods 
were not able to draw Jupiter down to the earth ; but con - 
trariwise, Jupiter was able to draw them up to heaven. 
So as we ought not to attempt to draw down or sub¬ 
mit the mysteries of God to our reason; but contrari¬ 
wise to raise and advance our reason to the divine truth. 
So as in this part of knowledge, touching divine philo¬ 
sophy, I am so far from noting any deficience, as I rather 
note an excess: whereunto I have digressed because of 
the extreme prejudice which both religion and philosophy 
have received and may receive, by being commixed toge¬ 
ther ; as that which undoubtedly will make an heretical 
religion, and an imaginary and fabulous philosophy. 

3. Otherwise it is of the nature of angels and spirits, 
which is an appendix of theology, both divine and natural, 
and is neither inscrutable nor interdicted; for although the 
Scripture saith, Let no man deceive you in sublime discourse 
touching the worship of angels, pressing into that he lenoweth 
not, Sfc., 2 yet, notwithstanding, if you observe well that 
precept, it may appear thereby that there be two things 
only forbidden, adoration of them, and opinion fantastical 
of them, either to extol them farther than appertained to 
the degree of a creature, or to extol a man’s knowledge of 
them farther than he hath ground. But the sober and 
grounded inquiry, which may arise out of the passages of 
holy Scriptures, or out of the gradations of nature, is not 
restrained. So of degenerate and revolted spirits, the 
conversing with them or the employment of them is pro¬ 
hibited, much more any veneration towards them; but the 
contemplation or science of their nature, their power, their 
illusions, either by Scripture or reason, is a part of spiritual 
wisdom. For so the apostle saith, We are not ignorant of 
his stratagems? And it is no more unlawful to inquire the 
nature of evil spirits, than to inquire the force of poisons in 
nature, or the nature of sin and vice in morality. But this 
part touching angels and spirits I cannot note as deficient, 
for many have occupied themselves in it; I may rather 
challenge it, in many of the writers thereof, as fabulous 
and fantastical. 


* Coloss. ii. 18. 


8 2 Cor. ii. 11. 




88 'Natural Philosophy Speculative and Operative. 


Of Natural 
Philosophy, 
physical and 
metaphy¬ 
sical. 


YII. 1. Leaving therefore divine philosophy 
or natural theology (not divinity or inspired 
theology, which we reserve for the last of all, 
as the haven and sabbath of all man’s contem¬ 
plations) we will now proceed to natural 


If then it be true that Democritus said, That the truth 
of nature lieth hid in certain deep mines and caves .- 4 and if 
it be true likewise that the alchemists do so much inculcate, 
that Vulcan is a second nature, and imitateth that dex¬ 
terously and compendiously, which nature worketh by 
ambages and length of time, it were good to divide natural 
philosophy into the mine and the furnace: and to make 
two professions or occupations of natural philosophers, some 
to be pioneers and some smiths ; some to dig, and some to 
refine and hammer: and surely I do best allow of a division 
of that kind, though in more familiar and scholastical terms; 
namely, that these be the two parts of natural philosophy, 
—the inquisition of causes , and the production of effects ; 
speculative, and operative; natural science, and natural 
prudence. For as in civil matters there is a wisdom of 
discourse, and a wisdom of direction; so is it in natural. 
And here I will make a request, that for the latter, or at 
least for a part thereof, I may revive and reintegrate the 
misapplied and abused name of natural magic; which, in 
the true sense, is but natural ivisdom, or natural prudence ; 
taken according to the ancient acception; purged from 
vanity and superstition. Now although it be true, and I 
know it well, that there is an intercourse between causes 
and effects, so as both these knowledges, speculative and 
operative, have a great connexion between themselves; 
yet because all true and fruitful natural philosophy hath 
a double scale or ladder, ascendent and descendent: ascend¬ 
ing from experiments to the invention of causes, and 
descending from causes to the invention of new experi¬ 
ments ; therefore I judge it most requisite that these two 
parts be severally considered and handled. 

2. Natural science or theory is divided into physique 
and metaphysique: wherein I desire it may be conceived 
that I use the word metaphysique in a differing sense from 
that that is received: and in like manner, I doubt not but 
it will easily appear to men of judgment, that in this and 
other particulars, wheresoever my conception and notion 


tv (3vQ<p yap 17 a\r]9ua. Diog. Laert.. ix. 72. 




Arrogant spirit of Aristotle. 89 

mav differ from tlie ancient, yet I am studious to keep the 
ancient terms. For hoping well to deliver myself from 
mistaking, by the order and perspicuous expressing of that 
I do propound; I am otherwise zealous and affectionate to 
recede as little from antiquity, either in terms or opinions, 
as may stand with truth and the proficience of knowledge. 
And herein I cannot a little marvel at the philosopher 
Aristotle, that did proceed in such a spirit of difference and 
contradiction towards all antiquity: undertaking not only 
to frame new words of science at pleasure, but to confound 
and extinguish all ancient wisdom : 5 insomuch as he never 
nameth or mentioneth an ancient author or opinion, but to 
confute and reprove; wherein for glory, and drawing fol¬ 
lowers and discipjes, he took the right course. For certainly 
there cometh to pass, and hath place in human truth, that 
which was noted and pronounced in the highest truth: 
Veni in nomine Patris, nee reeipitisme; se quis venerit in 
nomine suo eum recipietis. 6 But in this divine aphorism, 
(considering to whom it was applied, namely to antichrist, 
the highest deceiver,) we may discern well that the coming 
in a man’s own name, without regard of antiquity or pater¬ 
nity, is no good sign of truth, although it be joined with 
the fortune and success of an Eum recipietis. But for this 
excellent person Aristotle, I will think of him that he 
learned that humour of his scholar, with whom, it seemeth, 
he did emulate; the one to conquer all opinions, as the 
other to conquer all nations; wherein nevertheless, it 
may be, he may at some men’s hands, that are of a bitter 
disposition, get a like title as his scholar did : 

Felix terrarum praedo, non utile mundo, 

Editus exemplum, &c. 

So, 

Felix doctrinae praedo. 7 

But to me, on the other side, that do desire as much as lieth 
in mypen to ground a sociable intercourse between antiquity 
and proficience, it seemeth best to keep way with antiquity 


5 For Aristotle’s view ofliisduty as a philosopher, see Eth. Nic. 

i. 2. 8 John. v. 43. 

7 Illic Pellaei proles vesana Philippi . 

Felix praedo jacet, terrarum vindice fato 
Eaptus. 

Nam sibi libertas unquam si redderet orbem, 

Ludibrio servatus erat, non utile mundo 

Editus exemplum. Lucan. Phars. x. 20. 



90 Metaphysics examine formal and final, 

usque ad aras; and therefore to retain the ancient terms, 
though I sometimes alter the uses and definitions, accord¬ 
ing to the moderate proceeding in civil government; where 
although there be some alteration, yet that holdeth which 
Tacitus wisely noteth, Eadem Magistratuum vocabula* 

3. To return therefore to the use and acceptation of the 
term Metaphysique, as I do now understand the word; it 
appeareth, by that which hath been already said, that I 
intend philosophia prima, Summary Philosophy and Meta- 
physique, which heretofore have been confounded as one, 
to be two distinct things. For, the one I have made as a 
parent or common ancestor to all knowledge ; and the other 
I have now brought in as a branch or descendant of natural 
science. It appeareth likewise that I have assigned to 
summary philosophy the common principles and axioms 
which are promiscuous and indifferent to several sciences : 
I have assigned unto it likewise the inquiry touching the 
operation of the relative and adventive characters of 
essences, as quantity, similitude, diversity, possibility, and 
the rest: with this distinction and provision; that they be 
handled as they have efficacy in nature, and not logically. 
It appeareth likewise, that Natural Theology, which here¬ 
tofore hath been handled confusedly with Metaphysique, I 
have inclosed and bounded by itself. It is therefore now 
a question what is left remaining for Metaphysique ; 
wherein I may without prejudice preserve thus much of 
the conceit of antiquity, that Physique should contemplate 
that which is inherent in matter, and therefore transitory; 
and Metaphysique that which is abstracted and fixed. And 
again, that Physique should handle that which supposeth in 
nature only a being and moving; and Metaphysique should 
handle that which supposeth further in nature a reason, 
understanding, and platform. But the difference, per¬ 
spicuously expressed, is most familiar and sensible. For 
as we divided natural philosophy in general into the 
inquiry of causes, and productions of effects: so that part 
which eoncerneth the inquiry of causes we do subdivide 
according to the received and sound division of causes ; the 
one part, which is Physique, inquireth and handleth the 
material and efficient causes ; and the other, which is Meta- 
physique, handleth the formal and final causes. 

4. Physique, taking it according to the derivation, and 
not according to our idiom for medicine, is situate in a 
middle term or distance between N atural History and Meta- 


8 Tac. Ann.i. 3. 



Physics material and efficient Causes. 91 

physique. For natural history describeth the variety of 
things; physique, the causes, .but variable or respective 
causes ; and metaphysique, the fixed and constant causes. 

Limus lit hie durescit, et heec ut cera liquescit, 

Uno eodemque igni 

Fire is the cause of induration, but respective to clay; 
fire is the cause of colliquation, but respective to wax; but 
fire is no constant cause either of induration or colliqua¬ 
tion : so then the physical causes are but the efficient and 
the matter. Physique hath three parts; whereof two 
respect nature united or collected, the third contemplateth 
nature diffused or distributed. Nature is collected either 
into one entire total, or else into the same principles or 
seeds. So as the first doctrine is touching the contexture 
or configuration of things, as de mundo, de universitate 
rerum. The second is the doctrine concerning the principles 
or originals of times. The third is the doctrine concerning 
all variety and particularity of things; whether it be of 
the differing substances, or their differing qualities and 
natures ; whereof there needeth no enumeration, this part 
being but as a gloss, or paraphrase, that attendeth upon 
the text of natural history. Of these three I cannot report 
any as deficient. In what truth or perfection they are 
handled, I make not now any judgment; but they are 
parts of knowledge not deserted by the labour of man. 1 

5. For Metaphysique, we have assigned unto it the 
inquiry of formal and final causes; which assignation, as 
to the former of them, may seem to be nugatory and void; 
because of the received and inveterate opinion, that the 
inquisition of man is not competent to find out essential 
forms or true differences: of which opinion we will take 
this hold, that the invention of forms is of all other parts 
of knowledge the worthiest to be sought, if it be possible 
to be found. As for the possibility, they are ill discoverers 
that think there is no land, when they can see nothing but 
sea. But it is manifest that Plato, in his opinion of Ideas, 
as one that had a wit of elevation situate as upon a cliff. 


9 Virg. Eel. viii. 80. 

1 In the Latin edition this discussion is much extended. He pro¬ 
ceeds to divide Physics into Physica de Concretis,fm& de Abstractis, 
■with a notice of Natural Problems, and the opinions of ancient 
philosophers. He takes the opportunity to point out how the ‘ idle 
fictions of Astrology had hindered rational inquiry into the motions 
of the heavenly bodies. 



92 


Forms the true object of Knowledge ; 

did descry, that forms were the true object of knowledge ; 2 
but lost the real fruit of his opinion, by considering of 
forms as absolutely abstracted from matter, and not con¬ 
fined and determined by matter; and so turning his opinion 
upon theology, wherewith all his natural philosophy is 
infected. But if any man shall keep a continual watchful 
and severe eye upon action, operation, and the use of 
knowledge, he may advise and take notice what are the 
forms, the disclosures whereof are fruitful and important to 
the state of man. For as to the forms of substances, man 
only except, of whom it is said, Formavit liominem de limo 
terrce, et spiravit infaciem ejus spiraculum vitce, and not 
as of all other creatures, Producant aquce, producat terra? 
the forms of substances, I say, as they are now by com¬ 
pounding and transplanting multiplied, are so perplexed, 
as they are not to be inquired; no more than it were either 
possible or to purpose to seek in gross the forms of those 
sounds which make words, which by composition and 
transposition of letters are infinite. But, on the other side, 
to inquire the form of those sounds or voices which make 
simple letters, is easily comprehensible; and being known, 
induceth and manifesteth the forms of all words, which 
consist and are compounded of them. In the same manner 
to inquire the form of a lion, of an oak, of gold; nay, of 
water, of air, is a vain pursuit: but to inquire the forms of 
sense, of voluntary motion, of vegetation, of colours, of 
gravity and levity, of density, of tenuity, of heat, of cold, 
and all other natures and qualities, which, like an alphabet, 
are not many, and of which the essences, upheld by matter, 
of all creatures do consist; to inquire, I say, the true forms 
of these, is that part of metaphysique which we now define 
of. Not but that Physic doth make inquiry, and take con¬ 
sideration of the same natures : but how ? Only as to the 
material and efficient causes of them, and not as to the 
forms. For example; if the cause of whiteness in snow or 
froth be inquired, and it be rendered thus, that the subtile 
intermixture of air and water is the cause, it is well ren¬ 
dered; but, nevertheless, is this the form of whiteness P 
No; but it is the efficient, which is ever but vehiculum, 
formce. This part of metaphysique I do not find laboured 
and performed: whereat I marvel not: because I hold it 
not possible to be invented by that course of invention 


2 Cf. Hooker, i. 3,4; and see his own note. See also Plato, 

Eep.x. init. and Timae. passim. Compare also Hallam, Lit. of Ear . 
Pt. iii. c. 3,p. 402. 3 Gen. i. 20, 24; ii. 7. 



Simplicity its highest Excellence. 93 

which hath been used; in regard that men, which is the 
root of all error, have made too untimely a departure and 
too remote a recess from particulars. 4 

6. But the use of this part of Metaphysique, which I 
report as deficient, is of the rest the most excellent in two 
respects: the one, because it is the duty and virtue of all 
knowledge to abridge the infinity of individual experience, 
as much as the conception of truth will permit, and to 
remedy the complaint of vita brevis, ars longa ; 5 which is 
performed by uniting the notions and conceptions of 
sciences : for knowledges are as pyramids, whereof history 
is the basis. So of natural philosophy, the basis is natural 
history; the stage next the basis is physique; the stage 
next the vertical point is metaphysique. As for the ver¬ 
tical point, opus quod operatur Deus d principio usque ad 
finem , 6 the summary law of nature, we know not whether 
man’s inquiry can attain unto it. But these three be the 
true stages of knowledge, and are ; to them that are 
depraved no better than the giant’s hills: 

Ter sunt conati imponere Pelio Ossam, 

Scilicet, atque Ossae frondosum involvere Olympum . 7 
But to those who refer all things to the glory of God, they 
are as the three acclamations, Sancte, sancte, sancte ! holy 
in the description or dilatation of his works; holy 
in the connexion or concatenation of them; and holy in 
the union of them in a perpetual and uniform law. And 
therefore the speculation was excellent in Parmenides and 
Plato, although but a speculation in them, that all things 
by scale did ascend to unity. 8 So then always that know¬ 
ledge is worthiest which is charged with least multiplicity; 
which appeareth to be metaphysique; as that which con¬ 
sidered the simple forms or differences of things, which 
are few in number, and the degrees and co-ordinations 
whereof make all this variety. 

7. The second respect, which valueth and commended 
this part of metaphysique, is that it doth enfranchise the 
power of man unto the greatest liberty and possibility of 
works and effects. Por physique carrieth men in narrow 
and restrained ways, subject to many accidents of impedi¬ 
ments, imitating the ordinary flexuous courses of nature ; 
but latce undique sunt sapientibus vice: to sapience, which 

4 With this passage, compare Plat. Theaet. i. 155,156. 

8 Hippoc. Aph. i. 6 Eccles. iii. 11. 

7 Georg, i. 281. 

8 See the conclusion of the dialogue entitled Parmenides. 



94 


Progress of Knowledge hindered 

was anciently defined to be rerum divinarum et humanarum 
sciential there is ever choice of means: for physical causes 
give light to new invention in simili materia. But whoso¬ 
ever knoweth any form, knoweth the utmost possibility of 
superinducing that nature upon any variety of matter; 
and so is less restrained in operation, either to the basis of 
the matter, or the condition of the efficient; which kind of 
knowledge Solomon likewise, though in a more divine sort, 
elegantly describeth: non arctabuntur gressus tui, et cur- 
rens non habebis offendiculum} The ways of sapience are 
not much liable either to particularity or chance. 

8. The second part of metaphysique is the inquiry of 
final causes, which I am moved to report not as omitted, 
but as misplaced; and yet if it were but a fault in order, I 
would not speak of it: for order is matter of illustration, 
but pertaineth not to the substance of sciences. But this 
misplacing hath caused a deficience, or at least a great 
improficience in the sciences themselves. For the handling 
of final causes, mixed with the rest in physical inquiries, 
hath intercepted the severe and diligent inquiry of all real 
and physical causes, and given men the occasion to stay 
upon these satisfactory and specious causes, to the great 
arrest and prejudice of further discovery. For this I find 
done not only by Plato, who ever anchoreth upon that 
shore, but by Aristotle, Galen, and others which do usually 
likewise fall upon these flats of discoursing causes. 2 For 
to say that the hairs of the eye-lids are for a quickset and 
fence about the sight; or that the firmness * of the skins 
and hides of living creatures is to defend them from the 
extremities of heat or cold; or that the bones are for the 
columns or beams, whereupon the frames of the bodies of 
living creatures are built: or that the leaves of trees are 
for protecting of the fruit; or that the clouds are for 
watering of the earth; or that the solidness of the earth 
is for the station and mansion of living creatures and the 
like, is well inquired and collected in metaphysique, but 
in physique they are impertinent. Nay, they are indeed 
but remorae, and hindrances to stay and slug the ship from 
further sailing; and have brought this to pass, that the 
search of the physical causes hath been neglected, and 
passed in silence. And therefore the natural philosophy 
of Democritus and some others, (who did not suppose a 


9 Cic. de Off. i. 43. 1 Prov. iv. 12. 

2 Cf. e.g. Aristot. Pliys. ii. 8, quoted by hitter and Preller, p. 272. 



95 


by the Confusion of physical and final Causes. 

mind or reason in the frame of things, but attributed the 
form thereof able to maintain itself, to infinite essays or 
proofs of nature, which they term fortune ) seemeth to me, 
as far as I can judge by the recital and fragments which 
remain unto us, m particularities of physical causes, more 
real and better inquired than that of Aristotle and Plato; 
whereof both intermingled final causes, the one as a part 
of theology, and the other as a part of logic, which were 
the favourite studies respectively of both those persons. 
Not because those final causes are not true, and worthy to 
be inquired, being kept within their own province; but 
because their excursions into the limits of physical causes 
hath bred a vastness and solitude in that track. For 
otherwise, keeping their precincts and borders, men are 
extremely deceived if they think there is an enmity or 
repugnancy at all between them. For the cause rendered, 
that the hairs about the eye-lids are for the safeguard of 
the sight, doth not impugn the cause rendered, that pilosity 
is incident to orifices of moisture; muscosi fontes , 3 &c. 
Nor the cause rendered, that the firmness of hides is for 
the armour of the body against extremities of heat or 
cold, doth not impugn the cause rendered, that contrac¬ 
tion of pores is incident to the outwardest parts, in regard 
of their adjacence to foreign or unlilce bodies: and so of 
the rest: both causes being true and compatible, the 
one declaring an intention, the other a consequence only. 
Neither doth this call in question, or derogate from Divine 
Providence, buh highly confirm and exalt it. For as in 
civil actions he is the greater and deeper politique, that 
can make other men the instruments of his will and 
ends, and yet never acquaint them with his purpose, so as 
they shall do it and yet not know what they do, than he 
that imparteth his meaning to those he employeth; so 
is the wisdom of God more admirable, when nature in- 
tendeth one thing, and Providence draweth forth another, 
than if He had communicated to particular creatures and 
motions the characters and impressions of His Providence. 
And thus much for metaphysique : the latter part whereof 
I allow as extant, but wish it confined to his proper 
place. 4 


3 Virg. Ed. vii. 45. 

4 In the Latin edition a supplementary chapter is here intro¬ 
duced, corresponding to that on Physics (vid. sup. p. 91), He 
divides the operative knowledge of Nature into mechanics and magic, 
with a vindication of the proper sense of the word magic, &c. 



96 


Mathematics a Branch of Metaphysics. 


Of Mathe 
matics: 
Pure and, 
Mixed. 


VIII. 1. Nevertheless there remainetli yet 
another part of Natural Philosophy, which is 
commonly made a principal part, and holdeth 
rank with Physique special and Metaphysique, 
which is Mathematique; but I think it more 
agreeable to the nature of things, and to the light of order, 
to place it as a branch of metaphysique : for the subject of 
it being quantity, (not quantity indefinite, which is but a 
relative, and belongeth to philosophia prima, as hath been 
said, but quantity determined or proportionable), it ap- 
peareth to be one of the essential forms of things ; as that 
that is causative in nature of a number of effects; inso¬ 
much as we see, in the schools both of Democritus and of 
Pythagoras, 5 that the one did ascribe figure to the first 
seeds of things, and the other did suppose numbers to be 
the principles and originals of things: and it is true also 
that of all other forms, as we understand forms, it is the 
most abstracted and separable from matter, and therefore 
most proper to Metaphysique; which hath likewise been 
the cause why it hath been better laboured and inquired 
than any of the other forms, which are more immersed in 
matter. 

For it being the nature of the mind of man, to the 
extreme prejudice of knowledge, to delight in the spacious 
liberty of generalities, as in a champain region, and not in 
the inclosures of particularity; the Mathematics of all 
other knowledge were the goodliest fields to satisfy that 
appetite. But for the placing of this science, it is not 
much material: only we have endeavoured, in these our 
partitions, to observe a kind of perspective, that one part 
may cast light upon another. 

2. The Mathematics are either pure or mixed. To the 
pure mathematics are those sciencesfielonging which handle 
quantity determinate, merely severed from any axioms of 
natural philosophy ; and these are two, Geometry and 
Arithmetic'; the one handling quantity continued, and the 
other dissevered. 

Mixed hath for subject some axioms or parts of natural 
philosophy, and considereth quantity determined,-as it is 
auxiliary and incident unto them. For many parts of 
nature can neither be invented with sufficient subtilty, nor 
demonstrated with sufficient perspicuity, nor accommodated 


5 For the opinions of Democritus and the Pythagoreans here 
alluded to, see Aristot. de Anima , i. 2, and Met. A. 4, 5. 



Advance of Natural Philosophy foretold; 97 

unto use with sufficient dexterity, without the aid and 
intervening of the mathematics; of which sort are per¬ 
spective, music , astronomy , cosmography , architecture , en¬ 
ginery , and divers others. 

3. In the Mathematics I can report no deficience, except 
it be that men do not sufficiently understand the excellent 
use of the Pure Mathematics, in that they do remedy and 
cure many defects in the wit and faculties intellectual. For 
if the wit be too dull, they sharpen it; if too wandering, 
they fix it; if too inherent in the sense, they abstract it. 
So that as tennis is a game of no use in itself, but of great 
use in respect it maketh a quick eye and a body ready to 
put itself into all postures ; so in the mathematics, that use 
which is collateral and intervenient is no less worthy than 
that which is principal and intended. And as for the 
Mixed Mathematics, I may only make this prediction, that 
there cannot fail to be more kinds of them, as nature grows 
further disclosed. Thus much of natural science, or the 
part of nature speculative. 

4. For Natural Prudence, or the part operative of Na¬ 
tural Philosophy, we will divide it into three parts, experi¬ 
mental, philosophical, and magical; which three parts active 
have a correspondence and analogy with the three parts 
speculative, natural history, physique, and metaphysique : 
for many operations have been invented, sometimes by a 
casual incidence and occurrence, sometimes by a purposed 
experiment: and of those which have been found by an 
intentional experiment, some have been found out by vary¬ 
ing or extending the same experiment, some by transferring 
and compounding divers experiments the one into the 
other, which kind of invention an empiric may manage. 

5. Again, 6 by the knowledge of physical causes there 
cannot fail to follow many indications and designations of 
new particulars, if men in their speculation will keep one 
eye upon use and practice. But these are but coastings 
along the shore, Premendo littus iniquum : 7 for, it seemeth 
to me there can hardly be discovered any radical or funda¬ 
mental alterations and innovations in nature, either by the 
fortune and essays of experiments, or by the light and 
direction of physical causes. If therefore we have reported 
metaphysique deficient, it must follow that we do the like 
of natural magic, which hath relation thereunto. For as 


6 In the Latin edition sections 5—7 are omitted ; their substance 
having been inserted in the supplementary chapter mentioned above, 

p. 95. 7 Hor. Od. ii. x. 3. 


H 



98 hitherto obstructed by the Chimeras of the Alchemists. 

for the natural magic whereof now there is mention in 
books, containing certain credulous and superstitious con¬ 
ceits and observations of sympathies and antipathies, and 
hidden properties, and some frivolous experiments, strange 
rather by disguisement than in themselves, it is as far 
differing in truth of nature from such a knowledge as we 
require, as the story of King Arthur of Britain, or Hugh 
of Bourdeaux, 8 differs from Caesar’s Commentaries in truth 
of story. For it is manifest that Caesar did greater things 
de vero than those imaginary heroes were feigned to do ; 
but he did them not in that fabulous manner. Of this kind 
of learning the fable of Ixion 9 was a figure, who designed to 
enjoy Juno, the goddess of power; and instead of her had 
copulation with a cloud, of which mixture were begotten 
centaurs and chimeras. So whosoever shall entertain high 
and vaporous imaginations, instead of a laborious and 
sober inquiry of truth, shall beget hopes and beliefs of 
strange and impossible shapes. 

6. And therefore we may note in these sciences which 
hold so much of imagination and belief, as this dege¬ 
nerate natural magic, alchemy, astrology, and the like, 
that in their propositions the "description of the mean is 
ever more monstrous than the pretence or end. For it is 
a thing more probable, that he that knoweth well the 
natures of weight, of colour, of pliant and fragile, in respect 
of the hammer, of volatile and fixed in respect of the fire 
and the rest, may superinduce upon some metal the nature 
and form of gold by such mechanique as belongeth to the 
production of the natures afore rehearsed, than that some 
grains of the medicine projected should in a few moments 
of time turn a sea of quicksilver or other material into gold: 
so it is more probable that he that knoweth the nature of 
arefaction, the nature of assimilation of nourishment to the 
thing nourished, the manner of increase and clearing of 
spirits, the manner of the depredations which spirits make 
upon the humours and solid parts, shall by ambages of diets, 
bathings, anointings, medicines, motions, and the like, pro¬ 
long life, or restore some degree of youth or vivacity, than 
that it can be done with the use of a few drops or scruples 

8 A kniglit of romance, of the time of Charlemagne. His exploits 
may he found in the Histoire de Huon de Bordeaux, Pair de 
France, Due de Guienne. (Troyes circ. 1727.) A play, founded 
on this legend, was popular in London about ten years before the 
publication of the Advancement of Learning. See Henslowe's 
Diary published by the Shakspeare Society. 

9 Find. Pyth. ii. 21. 



Proposed Kalendar of Inventions, 99 

of a liquor or receipt. To conclude, therefore, the true 
Natural Magic, which is that great liberty and latitude of 
operation which dependeth upon the knowledge of forms, 
I may report deficient, as the relative thereof is. 

7. To which part, if we be serious, and incline not to 
vanities and plausible discourse, besides the deriving and 
deducing the operations themselves from metaphysique, 
there are pertinent two points of much purpose, the one by 
way of preparation, the other by way of caution: the first 
is, that there be made a kalendar, resembling an inventory 
of the estate of man, containing all the inventions, being 
the works or fruits of nature or art, which are now extant^ 
and whereof man is already possessed; out of which doth 
naturally result a note, what things are yet held impossible, 
or not invented: which kalendar will be the more artificial 
and serviceable, if to every reputed impossibility you add 
what thing is extant which cometh the nearest in degree to 
that impossibility; to the end that by these optatives and 
potentials man’s inquiry may be the more awake in deducing 
direction of works from the speculation of causes: and 
secondly, that those experiments be not only esteemed 
which have an immediate and present use, but those prin¬ 
cipally which are of most universal consequence for inven¬ 
tion of other experiments, and those w'hich give most light 
to the invention of causes ; for the invention of the 
mariner’s needle, which giveth the direction, is of no less 
benefit for navigation than the invention of the sails which 
give the motion. 

8. Thus have I passed through Natural Philosophy, and 
the deficiences thereof; wherein if I have differed from 
the ancient and received doctrines, and thereby shall move 
contradiction,—for my part, as I affect not to dissent, so I 
purpose not to contend. If it be truth, 

Non canimus surdis, respondent omnia svlvae : l 
The voice of nature will consent, whether the voice of man 
do or no. And as Alexander Borgia was wont to say of 
the expedition of the French for Naples, that they came 
with chalk in their hands to mark up their lodgings, and 
not with weapons to fight; so I like better that entry of 
truth which cometh peaceably, with chalk to mark up those 
minds which are capable to lodge and harbour it, than that 
which cometh with pugnacity and contention. 

9. But 2 there remaineth a division of natural philosophy 

1 Virg. Pci. x. 8. 

2 The substance of this section is inserted in the additional por¬ 
tion of the chapter on physics. See above, p. 91. 

H 2 



100 


of Doubts, and Popular Errors. 

according to the report of the inquiry, and nothing con¬ 
cerning the matter or subject: and that is positive and 
considerative ; when the inquiry reporteth either an asser¬ 
tion or a doubt. These doubts or non liquets are of two 
sorts, particular and total. For the first, we see a good 
example thereof in Aristotle’s Problems, which deserved to 
have had a better continuance ; but so nevertheless as there 
is one point whereof warning is to be given and taken. 
The registering of doubts hath two excellent uses : the one, 
that it saveth philosophy from errors and falsehoods ; when 
that which is not fully appearing is not collected into asser¬ 
tion, whereby error might draw error, but reserved in 
doubt: the other, that the entry of doubts are as so many 
suckers or sponges to draw use of knowledge*; insomuch as 
that which, if doubts had not preceded, a man should 
never have advised, but passed it over without note, by the 
suggestion and solicitation of doubts, is made to be attended 
and applied. But both these commodities do scarcely 
countervail an inconvenience which will intrude itself, if it 
be not debarred; which is, that when a doubt is once 
received, men labour rather how to keep it a doubt still, 
than'how to solve it; and accordingly bend their wits. Of 
this we see the familiar example in lawyers and scholars, 
both which, if they have once admitted a doubt, it 
goeth ever after authorized for a doubt. But that use of 
wit and knowledge is to be allowed, which laboureth to 
make doubtful things certain, and not those which labour 
to make certain things doubtful. Therefore these kalendars 
of doubts I commend as excellent things ; so that there be 
this caution used, that when they be thoroughly sifted and 
brought to resolution, they be from thenceforth omitted, 
decarded, and not continued to cherish and encourage men 
in doubting. To which kalendar of doubts or problems, I 
advise be annexed another kalendar, as much or more 
material, which is a Kalendar of Popular Errors : I mean 
chiefly in natural history, such as pass in speech and con¬ 
ceit, and are nevertheless apparently detected and convicted 
of untruth; that man’s knowledge be not weakened nor 
embased by such dross and vanity. 

As for the doubts or non liquets general, or in 
total, I understand those differences of opinions touch¬ 
ing the principles of nature, and the fundamental points 
of the same, which have caused the diversity of sects, 
schools, and philosophies, as that of Empedocles, Pytha¬ 
goras, Democritus, Parmenides, and the rest. For al¬ 
though Aristotle, as though he had been of the race 


101 


Need of a good History of Philosophy. 

of tlie Ottomans, thought he could not reign except the 
first thing he did he killed all his brethren ; 3 yet to those 
that seek Truth and not magistrality, it cannot but seem a 
matter of great profit, to see before them the several 
opinions touching the foundations of nature; not for any 
exact truth that can be expected in those theories; for as 
the same phenomena in astronomy are satisfied by the 
received astronomy of the diurnal motion, and the proper 
motions of the planets, with their eccentrics and epicycles, 
and likewise by the theory of Copernicus, 4 who supposed 
the earth to move, (and the calculations are indifferently 
agreeable to both,) so the ordinary face and view of expe¬ 
rience is many times satisfied by several theories and 
philosophies; whereas to find the real truth requireth 
another manner of severity and attention. For as Aristotle 
saith, 5 that children at the first will call every woman 
mother, but afterward they come to distinguish according 
to truth, so experience, if it be in childhood, will call every 
philosophy mother, but when it cometh to ripeness, it will 
discern the true mother. So, as in the mean time it is good 
to see the several glosses and opinions upon nature, 
whereof, it may be, every one in some one point hath seen 
clearer than his fellows, therefore, I wish some collection 
to be made, painfully and understandingly, de antiquis 
philosophiis, out of all the possible light which remaineth 
to us of them : which kind of work I find deficient. But 
here I must give warning, that it be done distinctly and 
severally; the philosophies of every one throughout by 
themselves, and not by titles packed and fagotted up 
together, as hath been done by Plutarch. For it is the 
harmony of a philosophy in itself which giveth it light and 
credence ; whereas if it be singled and broken, it will seem 
more foreign and dissonant. For as when I read in Tacitus 
the actions of Nero, or Claudius, with circumstances of 
times, inducements, and occasions, I find them not so 
strange ; but when I read them in Suetonius Tranquillus, 
gathered into titles and bundles, and not in order of time, 
they seem more monstrous and incredible : so is it of any 
philosophy reported entire, and dismembered by articles. 
Neither do I exclude opinions of latter times to be likewise 

3 Referring to the often quoted story of Amurath. So Shakspeare: 

Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds, 

But Harry Harry.— Hen. IF., Pt. ii. Act v. sc. 2. 

4 “ One guess among many.” Paley, Moral Philos. V., ad fin., 
a passage called by Dr. Parr the finest in English prose literature. 

5 Aristot. Phys. i. 1. 



102 Departments of Knowledge to be so indicated 

represented in this Calendar of sects of philosophy, as that 
of Theophrastus Paracelsus, eloquently reduced into a 
harmony by the pen of Severinus the Dane; and that of 
Tilesius, and his scholar Donius, being as a pastoral philo¬ 
sophy, full of sense, but of no great depth; and that of 
Fracastorius, who,though he pretended not to make any new 
philosophy, yet did use the absoluteness of his own sense 
upon the old; and that of Gilbertus our countryman, who 
revived, with some alterations and demonstrations, the opi¬ 
nions of Xenophanes: and any other worthy to be admitted. 

Thus have we now dealt with two of the three beams 
of man’s knowledge; that is radius directus , which is 
referred to nature, radius refractus, which is referred to 
God ; and cannot report truly because of the inequality of 
the medium : there resteth radius rejlexus, whereby man 
beholdeth and contemplateth himself. 

. IX. 1. We 6 come therefore now to that 
Human Phi- k now ] ec lge whereunto the ancient oracle di- 
theknow- rectet ^ us, which is the knowledge of our- 
ledqeof selves; 7 which deserveth the more accurate 
ourselves. handling, by how much it toucheth us more 
nearly. This knowledge, as it is the end and 
term of natural philosophy in the intention of man, so not¬ 
withstanding it is but a portion of natural philosophy in 
the continent of nature: and generally let this be a rule, 
that all partitions of knowledges be accepted rather for 
lines and veins than for sections and separations ; and that 
the continuance and entireness of knowledge be preserved. 
For the contrary hereof hath made particular sciences to 
become barren, shallow, and erroneous, while they have 
not been nourished and maintained from the common 
fountain. So we see Cicero the orator complained of 
Socrates and his school, that he was the first that sepa¬ 
rated philosophy and rhetoric ; 8 whereupon rhetoric became 
an empty and verbal art. So we may see that the opinion 
of Copernicus touching the rotation of the earth, which 
astronomy itself cannot correct, because it is not repug¬ 
nant to any of the phenomena, yet natural philosophy may 
correct. So we see also that the science of medicine if it 
be destituted and forsaken by natural philosophy, it is not 
much better than an empirical practice. With this reserva¬ 
tion therefore we proceed to human philosophy or humanity, 
w hich hath two parts : the one considereth man segregate 


6 In the Latin edition the fourth book commences here. 

7 Cf. Plat. Alcib. Prim. ii. 124. « D e Orat. iii. 16, 17. 




103 


that its Unity he not broken. 

or distributively; the other congregate, or in society. So 
as human philosophy is either simple and particular, or con¬ 
jugate and civil. Humanity particular consisteth of the 
same parts whereof man consisteth; that is, of knowledges 
which respect the body, and of knowledges which respect 
the mind; but before we distribute so far, it is good to 
constitute. For I do take the consideration in general, 
and at large, of human nature to be fit to be emancipate 
and made a knowledge by itself: not so much in regard of 
those delightful and elegant discourses which have been 
made of the dignity of man, of his miseries, of his state 
and life, and the like adjuncts of his common and undivided 
nature ; but chiefly in regard of the knowledge concerning 
the sympathies and concordances between the mind and 
body, which being mixed cannot be properly assigned to 
the sciences of either. 

2. This knowledge hath two branches: for as all leagues 
and amities consist of mutual intelligence and mutual 
offices, so this league of mind and body hath these two 
parts ; how the one discloseth the other, and how the one 
worketh upon the other; discovery and impression. The 
former of these hath begotten two arts, both of 'prediction 
or prenotion ; whereof the one is honoured with the inquiry 
of Aristotle, and the other of Hippocrates. 9 And although 
they have of later time been used to be coupled with super¬ 
stitious and fantastical arts, yet being purged and restored 
to their true state, they have both of them a solid ground 
in nature, and a profitable use in life. The first is phy¬ 
siognomy, which discovereth the disposition of the mind by 
the lineaments of the body : the second is the exposition of 
natural dreams, which discovereth the state of the body by 
the imaginations of the mind. In the former of these I 
note a deficience. For Aristotle 1 hath very ingeniously 
and diligently handled the factures of the body, but not 
the gestures of the body, which are no less comprehensible 
by art, and of greater use and advantage. For the linea¬ 
ments of the body do disclose the disposition and inclina¬ 
tion of the mind in general; but the motions of the coun¬ 
tenance and parts do not only so, but do further disclose 
the present humour and state of the mind and will. For 


9 In his work called Praenotiones. 

1 See Aristotle’s short treatise on physiognomy. It may perhaps 
be as well to remind the reader that the word physiognomy is not 
confined to the features of the countenance, as it is vulgarly used in 
the present day, but to the general outline of the body. 



104 


Value of an Inquiry into the reciprocal 

as your majesty saith most aptly and elegantly, As the 
tongue speaketh to the ear so the gesture speaketh to the 
eye . And therefore a number of subtle persons, whose 
eyes do dwell upon the faces and fashions of men, do well 
know the advantage of this observation, as being most part 
of their ability; neither can it be denied, but that it is a 
great discovery of dissimulations, and a great direction in 
business. 

3. The latter branch, touching impression, hath not 
been collected into art, but hath been handled dispersedly; 
and it hath the same relation or antistrophe that the former 
hath. For the consideration is double: either how, and 
how far the humours and affects of the body do alter or 
work upon the mind; or again, how and how far the pas¬ 
sions or apprehensions of the mind do alter or work upon 
the body. The former of these hath been inquired and 
considered as a part and appendix of medicine, but much 
more as a part of religion or superstition. For the physi¬ 
cian prescribeth cures of the mind in phrensies and melan¬ 
choly passions; and pretendeth also to exhibit medicines 
to exhilarate the mind, to confirm the courage, to clarify 
the wits, to corroborate the memory, and the like: but the 
scruples and superstitions of diet and other regimen of the 
body in the sect of the Pythagoreans, in the heresy of the 
Manicheans, and in the law of Mahomet, do exceed. So 
likewise the ordinances in the ceremonial law, interdicting 
the eating of the blood and the fat, distinguishing between 
beasts clean and unclean for meat, are many and strict. 2 
Kav the faith itself being clear and serene from all clouds 
of ceremony, yet retaineth the use of fastings, abstinences, 
and other macerations and humiliations of the body, as 
things real, and not figurative. The root and life of all 
which prescripts is, besides the ceremony, the consideration 
of that dependency which the affections of the mind are 
submitted unto upon the state and disposition of the body. 
And if any man of weak judgment do conceive that this 
suffering of the mind from the body doth either question 
the immortality, or derogate from the sovereignty of the 
soul, he may be taught in easy instances, that the infant in 
the mother’s womb is compatible with the mother and yet 
separable ; and the most absolute monarch is sometimes led 
by his servants and yet without subjection. As for the 
reciprocal knowledge, which is the operation of the conceits 
and passions of the mind upon the body, we see all wise 


* Vid. Deut. c. xii. 



105 


Influences of the Body and Mind . 

physicians, in the prescriptions of their regiments to their 
patients, do ever consider accidentia animi as of great force 
to further or hinder remedies or recoveries: and more 
especially it is an inquiry of great depth and worth con¬ 
cerning imagination, how and how far it altereth the body 
proper of the imaginant. For although it hath a manifest 
power to hurt, it followeth not it hath the same degree of 
power to help; no more than a man can conclude, that 
because there be pestilent airs, able suddenly to kill a man 
in health, therefore there should be sovereign airs, able 
suddenly to cure a man in sickness. But the inquisition of 
this part is of great use, though it needeth, as Socrates 
said, a Delian diver? being difficult and profound. But 
unto all this knowledge de communi vinculo , of the con¬ 
cordances between the mind and the body, that part of 
inquiry is most necessary, which considereth of the seats 
and domiciles which the several faculties of the mind do 
take and occupate in the organs of the body; which know¬ 
ledge hath been attempted, and is controverted, and de- 
serveth to be much better inquired. For the opinion of 
Plato, 4 who placed the understanding in the brain, ani¬ 
mosity (which he did unfitly call anger , having a greater 
mixture with pride) in the heart, and concupiscence or 
sensuality in the liver, deserveth not to be despised ; but 
much less to be allowed. So then we have constituted, as 
in our own wish and advice, the inquiry touching human 
nature entire, as a just portion of knowledge to be handled 
apart. 

X. 1. The knowledge that concerneth ofArtscon- 
man’s body is divided as the good of man’s cern { n g the 
body is divided, unto which it referreth. The Body. 
good of man’s body is of four kinds, health, 
beauty, strength, and pleasure ; so the knowledges are 
medicine, or art of cure: art of decoration, which is called 
cosmetique; art of activity, which is called athletique; 
and art voluptuary, which Tacitus truly calleth erudttus 
luxus. b This subject of man’s body is of all other things 
in nature most susceptible of remedy; but then that 
remedy is most susceptible of error. For the same sub¬ 
tility of the subject doth cause large possibility and easy 
failing; and therefore the inquiry ought to be the more 
exact. 


3 Diog. Laert. ii. 22 (in Vit. Soc.) Socrates was speaking of a 
work of Heraclitus which Euripides had lent him. 

« Vid. Plat. Timae. iii. 69, seq. 4 Tac. Ann. xvi. 18. 




106 


Medicine an Art mainly empiric , 

To speak therefore of Medicine , and to resume that we 
have said, ascending a little higher: the ancient opinion 
that man was microcosmus, an abstract or model of the 
world, hath been fantastically strained by Paracelsus and 
the alchemists, as if there were to be found in man’s body 
certain correspondences and parallels, which should have 
respect to all varieties of things, as stars, planets, minerals, 
which are extant in the great world. Put thus much is 
evidently true, that of all substances which nature hath 
produced, man’s body is the most extremely compounded. 
Por we see herbs and plants are nourished by earth and 
water; beasts for the most part by herbs and fruits ; man 
by the flesh of beasts, birds, fishes, herbs, grains, fruits, 
water, and the manifold alterations, dressings, and pre¬ 
parations of the several bodies, before they come to be his 
food and aliment. Add hereunto, that beasts have a more 
simple order of life, and less change of affections to work 
upon their bodies: whereas man in his mansion, sleep, 
exercise, passions, hath infinite variations: and it cannot 
be denied but that the body of man of all other things is of 
the most compounded mass. The soul on the other side is 
the simplest of substances, as is well expressed: 

Purumque reliquit 

iEtliereum sensum atque aurai simplicis ignem. 6 

So that it is no marvel though the soul so placed enjoy no 
rest, if that principle be true, that Motus rerum est rapidus 
extra locum, placidus in loco. But to the purpose : this 
variable composition of man’s body hath made it as an 
instrument easy to distemper; and therefore the poets did 
well to conjoin music and medicine in Apollo, 7 because the 
office of medicine is but to tune this curious harp of man’s 
body and to reduce it to harmony. So then the subject 
being so variable, hath made the art by consequence more 
conjectural; and the art being conjectural hath made so 
much the more place to be left for imposture. For almost 
all other arts and sciences are judged by acts, or master¬ 
pieces, as I may term them, and not by the successes and 
events. The lawyer is judged by the virtue of his plead¬ 
ing, and not by the issue of the cause ; the master of the 
ship is judged by the directing his course aright, and not 
by the fortune of the voyage; but the physician, and 
perhaps the politique, hath no particular acts demonstra¬ 
tive of his ability, but is judged most by the event; which 


c Virg. JSn. vi. 747. 


7 Vid. Ovid. Metam. i. 521. 




107 


and hence much open to Impostors. 

is ever but as it is taken: for who can tell, if a patient die 
or recover, or if a state be preserved or ruined, whether it 
be art or accident? And therefore many times the im¬ 
postor is prized, and the man of virtue taxed. Nay, we 
see the weakness and credulity of men is such, as they 
will often prefer a mountebank or witch before a learned 
physician. And therefore the poets were clear-sighted in 
discerning this extreme folly, when they made iEsculapius 
and Circe brother and sister, both children of the sun. as 
in the verses, JEn. vii. 772: 

Ipse reperlorem medicinae talis et artis 

Fulmine Phoebigenam Stygias detrusit ad undas : 

And again, AEn. vii. 11: 

Dives inaccessos ubi Solis filia lucos, &c. 

For in all times, in the opinion of the multitude, witches 
and old women and impostors have had a competition with 
physicians. And what followeth ? Even this, that physi¬ 
cians say to themselves as Solomon expresseth it upon an 
higher occasion; If it befall to me as befalleth to the fools , 
why should I labour to be more wise ? 8 And therefore I 
cannot much blame physicians, that they use commonly to 
intend some other art or practice, which they fancy more 
than their profession. For you shall have of them anti¬ 
quaries, poets, humanists, statesmen, merchants, divines, 
and in every of these better seen than in their profession; 
and no doubt upon this ground, that they find that medio¬ 
crity and excellency in their art maketh no difference in 
profit or reputation towards their fortune; for the weak¬ 
ness of patients, and sweetness of life, and nature of hope, 
maketh men depend upon physicians with all their defects. 
But nevertheless, these things which we have spoken of, 
are courses begotten between a little occasion, and a great 
deal of sloth and default; for if we will excite and awake 
our observation, we shall see in familiar instances what a 
predominant faculty the subtility of spirit hath over the 
variety of matter or form. Nothing more variable than 
faces and countenances : yet men can bear in memory the 
infinite distinctions of them; nay, a painter with a few 
shells of colours, and the benefit of his eye, and habit of 
his imagination, can imitate them all that ever have been, 
are, or may be, if they were brought before him. Nothing 
more variable than voices ; yet men can likewise discern 


8 Eccles. ii. 15. 



108 


Physicians’ neglect of Pathology 

them personally: nay, you shall have a buffoon or panto - 
mimus, who will express as many as he pleaseth. Nothing 
more variable than the differing sounds of words; yet men 
have found the way to reduce them to a few simple letters. 
So that it is not the insufficiency or incapacity of man’s 
mind, but it is the remote standing or placing thereof, that 
breedeth these mazes and incomprehensions: for as the 
sense afar off is full of mistaking, but is exact at hand, so 
is it of the understanding; the remedy whereof is, not to 
quicken or strengthen the organ, but to go nearer to the 
object; and therefore there is no doubt but if the physi¬ 
cians will learn and use the true approaches and avenues of 
nature, they may assume as much as the poet saith: 

Et quoniam variant morbi, variabimus artes ; 

Mille mali species, mille salutis erunt . 9 

Which that they should do, the nobleness of their art 
doth deserve ; well shadowed by the poets, in that they 
made ^Esculapius to be the son of the sun, the one being 
the fountain of life, the other as the second stream: but 
infinitely more honoured by the example of our Saviour, 
who made the body of man the object of his miracles, as 
the soul was the object of his doctrine. For we read not 
that ever he vouchsafed to do any miracle about honour 
or money, except that one for giving tribute to Caesar; 
but only about the preserving, sustaining, and healing the 
body of man. 

2. Medicine is a science which hath been, as we have 
said, more professed than laboured, and yet more laboured 
than advanced; the labour having been, in my judgment, 
rather in circle than in progression. For I find much 
iteration, but small addition. It considereth causes of 
diseases , with the occasions or impulsions; the diseases 
themselves, with the accidents; and the cures , with the 
preservations. The Deficiences which I think good to 
note, being a few of many, and those such as are of a 
more open and manifest nature, I will enumerate, and 
not place. 

3. The first is the discontinuance of the ancient and 
serious diligence of Hippocrates, which used to set down 
a narrative of the special cases of his patients, and how 
they proceeded, and how they were judged by recovery 
or death. Therefore having an example proper in the 
father of the art, I shall not need to allege an example 


9 Ovid. R. A. 525, 


109 


and Anatomy ; 

foreign, of tlie wisdom of the lawyers, who are careful to 
report new cases and decisions, for the direction of future 
judgments. This continuance of medicinal history I find 
deficient; which I understand neither to be so infinite as 
to extend to every common case, nor so reserved as to 
admit none but wonders : for many things are new in the 
manner, which are not new in the kind; and if men 
will intend to observe, they shall find much worthy to 
observe. 

4. In the inquiry which is made by Anatomy, I find 
much deficience : for they inquire of the parts, and their 
substances, figures, and collocations; but they inquire not 
of the diversities of the parts, the secrecies of the pas¬ 
sages, and the seats or nestlings of the humours, nor much 
of the footsteps and impressions of diseases: the reason 
of which omission I suppose to be, because the first 
inquiry may be satisfied in the view of one or a few ana¬ 
tomies : but the latter, being comparative and casual, 
must arise from the view of many. And as to the diver¬ 
sity of parts, there is no doubt but the facture or framing 
of the inward parts is as full of difference as the outward, 
and in that is the cause continent of many diseases; 
which not being observed, they quarrel many times with 
the humours, which are not in fault; the fault being in 
the very frame and mechanic of the part, which cannot be 
removed by medicine alterative, but must be accommodate 
and palliate by diets and medicines familiar. As for the 
passages and pores, it is true which was anciently noted, 
that the more subtle of them appear not in anatomies, 
because they are shut and latent in dead bodies, though 
they be open and manifest in live: which being sup¬ 
posed, though the inhumanity of anatomia vivorum was 
by Celsus justly reproved j 1 yet in regard of the great use 
of this observation, the inquiry needed not by him so 
slightly to have been relinquished altogether, or referred 
to the casual practices of surgery ; but mought have been 
well diverted upon the dissection of beasts alive, which 
notwithstanding the dissimilitude of their parts, may suffi¬ 
ciently satisfy this. inquiry. And for the humours, they 
are commonly passed over in anatomies as purgaments; 
whereas it is most necessary to observe, what cavities, 
nests, and receptacles the humours do find in the parts, 
with the differing kind of the humour so lodged and 


1 De re Medica, i. 5. 



110 


Hasty despair of Cures ; 

received. And as for tlie footsteps of diseases, and tlieir 
devastations of the inward parts, impostliumations, exul¬ 
cerations, discontinuations, putrefactions, consumptions, 
contractions, extensions, convulsions, dislocations, obstruc¬ 
tions, repletions, together with all preternatural sub¬ 
stances, as stones, carnosities, excrescences, worms, and 
the like; they ought to have been exactly observed by 
multitude of anatomies, and the contribution of men’s 
several experiences, and carefully set down, both histori¬ 
cally, according to the appearances, and artificially, with 
a reference to the diseases and symptoms which resulted 
from them, in case where the anatomy is of a defunct 
patient; whereas now, upon opening of bodies, they are 
passed over slightly and in silence. 

5. In the inquiry of diseases, they do abandon the 
cures of many, some as in their nature incurable, and 
others as past the period of cure; so that Sylla and the 
Triumvirs never proscribed so many men to die, as they 
do by their ignorant edicts: whereof numbers do escape 
with less difficulty than they did in the Roman proscrip¬ 
tions. Therefore I will not doubt to note as a deficience, 
that they inquire not the perfect cures of many diseases, 
or extremities of diseases; but pronouncing them incur¬ 
able, do enact a law of neglect, and exempt ignorance from 
discredit. 

Nay, further, I esteem it the office of a physician not 
onlv to restore health, but to mitigate pain and dolours ; 
and not only when such mitigation may conduce to 
recovery, but when it may serve to make a fair and easy 
passage: for it is no small felicity which Augustus Csesar 
was wont to wish to himself, that same Euthanasia ; 2 and 
which was especially noted in the death of Antoninus Pius, 
whose death was after the fashion and semblance of a 
kindly and pleasant sleep. So it is written of Epicurus, 
that after his disease was judged desperate, he drowned 
his stomach and senses with a large draught and ingur¬ 
gitation of wine ; 3 whereupon the epigram was made, Ilinc 
Stygias ebrius hausit aquas; he was not sober enough to 
taste any bitterness of the Stygian water. But the physi¬ 
cians, contrariwise, do make a kind of scruple and religion 
to stay with the patient after the disease is deplored; 
whereas, in my judgment, they ought both to inquire 
the skill, and to give the attendances, for the facilitating 
and assuaging of the pains and agonies of death. 


2 Suet. Vit. Aug. c. 100. 


3 Diog. Laert. Vit. Epic. x. § 15. 



Confusion of Remedies. Ill 

6. In the consideration of the cures of diseases, I find 
a deficience in the receipts of propriety, respecting the 
particular cures of diseases: for the physicians have 
frustrated the fruit of tradition and experience by their 
magistracies, in adding, and taking out, and changing 
quid pro quo, in their receipts, at their pleasures; com¬ 
manding so over the medicine, as the medicine cannot 
command over the diseases : for except it be treacle and 
mithridatum, and of late diascordium, and a few more, 
they tie themselves to no receipts severely and religiously: 
for as to the confections of sale which are in the shops, 
they are for readiness and not for propriety; for they are 
upon general intention of purging, opening, comforting, 
altering, and not much appropriate to particular diseases : 
and this is the cause why empirics and old women are 
more happy many times in their cures than learned phy¬ 
sicians, because they are more religious in holding their 
medicines. Therefore here is the deficience which I find, 
that physicians have not, partly out of their own practice, 
partly out of the constant probations reported in books, 
and partly out of the traditions of empirics, set down and 
delivered over certain experimental medicines for the cure 
of particular diseases, besides their own conjectural and 
magistral descriptions. For as they were the men of the 
best composition in the state of Rome, which either being 
consuls inclined to the people, or being tribunes inclined 
to the senate; so in the matter we now handle, they be 
the best physicians, which being learned incline to the 
traditions of experience, or being empirics incline to the 
methods of learning. 

7. In preparation of medicines, I do find strange, 
especially considering how mineral medicines have been 
extolled, and that they are safer for the outward than 
inward parts, that no man hath sought to make an imita¬ 
tion by art of natural baths and medicinable fountains: 
which nevertheless are confessed to receive their virtues 
from minerals: and not so only, but discerned and dis¬ 
tinguished from what particular mineral they receive tinc¬ 
ture, as sulphur, vitriol, steel, or the like ; which nature, 
if it may be reduced to compositions of art, both the 
variety of them will be increased, and the temper of them 
will be more commanded. 

8. But lest I grow to be more particular than is agree¬ 
able either to my intention or to proportion, I will con¬ 
clude this part with the note of one deficience more, 
which seemeth to me of greatest consequence; which is. 


112 


Duty of attention to the Body. 

that the prescripts in use are too compendious to attain 
their end: for, to my understanding, it is a vain and 
flattering opinion to think any medicine can be so sovereign 
or so happy, as that the receipt or use of it can work any 
great effect upon the body of man. It were a strange 
speech, which, spoken, or spoken oft, should reclaim a 
man from a vice to which he were by nature subject: it 
is order, pursuit, sequence, and interchange of application, 
which is mighty in nature; which, although it require 
more exact knowledge in prescribing, and more precise 
obedience in observing, yet is recompensed with the mag¬ 
nitude of effects. And although a man would think, by 
the daily visitations of the physicians, that there were a 
pursuance in the cure: yet let a man look into their 
prescripts and ministrations, and he shall find them but 
inconstancies and every day’s devices, without any settled 
providence or project. Not that every scrupulous or 
superstitious prescript is effectual, no more than every 
straight way is the way to heaven; but the truth of the 
direction must precede severity of observance. 4 

9. For cosmetique, it hath parts civil, and parts effemi¬ 
nate : for cleanness of body was ever esteemed to proceed 
from a due reverence to God, to society, and to ourselves. 
As for artificial decoration, it is well worthy of the de- 
ficiences which it hath; being neither fine enough to 
deceive, nor handsome to use, nor wholesome to please. 

10. For athletique, I take the subject of it largely, that 
is to say, for any point of ability whereunto the body of 
man may be brought, whether it be of activity, or of 
patience; whereof activity hath two parts, strength and 
swiftness ; and patience likewise hath two parts, hardness 
against wants and extremities, and endurance of pain or 
torment; whereof we see the practices in tumblers, in 
savages, and in those that suffer punishment: nay, if 
there be any other faculty which falls not within any of 
the former divisions, as in those that dive, that obtain a 
strange power of containing respiration, and the like, I 
refer it to this part. Of these things the practices are 
known, but the philosophy that concerneth them is not 
much inquired; the rather, I think, because they are sup¬ 
posed to be obtained, either by an aptness of nature, 
which cannot be taught, or only by continual custom. 


4 In the Latin edition this section is followed by a discourse on 
the means of prolonging life. 



113 


Knowledge of the Soul must spring from God. 

which is soon prescribed: which though it be not true, yet 
I forbear to note any deficiencies : for the Olympian games 
are down long since, and the mediocrity of these things 
is for use; as for the excellency of them it serveth for the 
most part but for mercenary ostentation. 

11. For arts of pleasure sensual , the chief deficience in 
them is of laws to repress them. For as it hath been 
well observed, that the arts which flourish in times while 
virtue is in growth, are military; and while virtue is in 
state, are liberal; and while virtue is in declination, are 
Voluptuary ; so I doubt that this age of the world is some¬ 
what upon the descent of the wheel. With arts volup¬ 
tuary I couple practices joculary; for the deceiving of the 
senses is one of the pleasures of the senses. As for 
games of recreation, I hold them to belong to civil life 
and education. And thus much of that particular human 
philosophy which concerns the body, which is but the 
tabernacle of the mind. 

XI. 1. For Human Knowledge which con- Human Phi - 
cerns the Mind, 5 it hath two parts; the one losophy as it 
that inquireth of the substance or nature of the concerns the 
soul or mind, the other that inquireth of the Mind. 
faculties or functions thereof. Unto the first 
of these, the considerations of the original of the soul, 
whether it be native or adventive, and how far it is 
exempted from laws of matter, and of the immortality 
thereof, and many other points, do appertain : which have 
been not more laboriously inquired than variously reported; 
so as the travail therein taken seemeth to have been 
rather in a maze than in a way. But although I am of 
opinion that this knowledge may be more really and 
soundly inquired, even in nature, than it hath been ; yet 
I hold that in the end it must be bounded by religion, 
or else it will be subject to deceit and delusion: for as the 
substance of the soul in the creation was not extracted out 
of the mass of heaven and earth by the benediction of a 
producat but was immediately inspired from God: so it is 
not possible that it should be (otherwise than by accident) 
subject to the laws of heaven and earth, which are the 
subject of philosophy; and therefore the true knowledge of 
the nature and state of the soul must come by the same 
inspiration that gave the substance. Unto this part of 
knowledge touching the soul there be two appendices; 

5 In the Latin edition this section is much enlarged, but nothing 
very important added. 


I 



114 Of Divination 

which, as they have been handled, have rather vapoured 
forth fables than kindled truth, Divination and Fascina¬ 
tion. 

2. Divination hath been anciently and fitly divided 
into artificial and natural; whereof artificial is, when 
the mind maketh a prediction by argument, concluding 
upon signs and tokens; natural is, when the mind hath 
a presention by an internal power, without the induce¬ 
ment of a sign. Artificial is of two sorts; either when 
the argument is coupled with a derivation of causes, which 
is rational; or when it is only grounded upon a coin¬ 
cidence of the effect, which is experimental: whereof the 
latter for the most part is superstitious; such as were the 
heathen observations upon the inspection of sacrifices, the 
flights of birds, the swarming of bees; and such as was 
the Chaldean astrology, and the like. For artificial divi¬ 
nation, the several kinds thereof are distributed amongst 
particular knowledges. The astronomer hath his predic¬ 
tions, as of conjunctions, aspects, eclipses, and the like. 
The physician hath his predictions of death, of recovery, 
of the accidents and issues of diseases. The Politique 
hath his predictions ; O urbem venalem, et cito peTituram, 
si emptorem invenerit / 6 which stayed not long to be per¬ 
formed, in Sylla first, and after in Csesar. So as these 
predictions are now impertinent, and to ba referred over. 
But the divination which springeth from the internal 
nature of the soul, is that which we now speak of; which 
hath been made to be of two sorts, primitive and by 
influxion. Primitive is grounded upon the supposition, 
that the mind, when it is withdrawn and collected into 
itself, and not diffused into the organs of the body, hath 
some extent and latitude of prenotion; which therefore 
appeareth most in sleep, in ecstacies, and near death, and 
more rarely in waking apprehensions ; and is induced and 
furthered by those abstinences and observances which 
make the mind most to consist in itself. By influxion, is 
grounded upon the conceit that the mind, as a mirror or 
glass, should take illumination from the foreknowledge of 
God and spirits : unto which the same regiment doth like¬ 
wise conduce. For the retiring of the mind within itself, 
is the state which is most susceptible of divine influxions j 
save that it is accompanied in this case with a fervency 


6 Jugurtlia: quoted from the Epitome of Livy , Ixiv. The ex¬ 
clamation is also found in Sail. Jug. c. xxxv. 



and Fascination. ] 15 

and (%3vation, which the ancients noted b jfary, and not 
with a repose and quiet, as it is in the other. 

3. Fascination is the power and act of imagination 
intensive upon other bodies than the body of the imaginant, 
for of that we spake in the proper place: wherein the school 
of Paracelsus, and the disciples of pretended natural magic 
have been so intemperate, as they have exalted the power 
of the imagination to be much one with the power of mira¬ 
cle-working faith; others, that draw nearer to probability, 
calling to their view the secret passages of things, and spe¬ 
cially of the contagion that passeth from body to body, do 
conceive it should likewise be agreeable to nature, that 
there should be some transmissions and operations from 
spirit to spirit without the mediation of the senses ; whence 
the conceits have grown, now almost made civil, of the 
mastering spirit, and the force of confidence, and the like. 
Incident unto this is the inquiry how to raise and fortify 
the imagination: for if the imagination fortified have 
power, then it is material to know how to fortify and exalt 
it. And herein comes in crookedly and dangerously a 
palliation of a great part of ceremonial magic. For it may 
be pretended that ceremonies, characters, and charms, do 
work, not by any tacit or sacramental contract with evil 
spirits, but serve only to strengthen the imagination of him 
that useth it: as images are said by the Homan church to 
fix the cogitations, and raise the devotions of them that 
pray before them. But for mine own judgment, if it be 
admitted that imagination hath power, and that ceremonies 
fortify imagination, and that they be used sincerely and 
intentionally for that purpose; yet I should hold them 
unlawful, as opposing to that first edict which God gave 
unto man, In sudore vultus comedes joanem tuum. For 
they propound those noble effects, which God hath set 
forth unto man to be bought at the price of labour, to be 
attained by a few easy and slothful observances. Defi- 
ciences in these knowledges I will report none, other than 
the general deficience, that it is not known how much of 
them is verity, and how much vanity. 7 


7 In the Latin edition two dissertations are here inserted,—of 
Voluntary Motion, and of the Difference. between Perception and 
Sense,—together with a curious discourse on the Form of Light, in 
which, however, he confines himself to noting the deficiences of 
previous inquirers, and indicating where the difficulties of the sub¬ 
ject lie. The next chapter commences the fifth book. 



116 


Agency of the Imagination in Knowledge ; 


Division of 
Knowledge 
into Intel¬ 
lectual and 
Moral. 


XII. 1. The Knowledge which resj#?teth 
the faculties of the mind of man is of two kinds; 
the one respecting his Understanding and Rea¬ 
son, and the other his Will, Appetite, and Af¬ 
fection; whereof the former ^voduceth. position 
or decree, the latter action or execution. It is 
true that the Imagination is an agent or nuncius, in both 
provinces, both the judicial and the ministerial. For Sense 
sendeth over to Imagination before Reason have judged: 
and Reason sendeth over to Imagination before the decree 
can be acted: for Imagination ever precede th Voluntary- 
Motion. Saving that this Janus of Imagination hath dif¬ 
fering faces : for the face towards reason hath the print of 
Truth, but the face towards Action hath the print of Good; 
which nevertheless are faces, 

Quales decet esse sororum. 


Neither is the imagination simply and only a messenger; 
but is invested with, or at leastwise usurpeth no small 
authority in itself, besides the duty of the message. For 
it was well said by Aristotle, That the mind hath over the 
body that commandment, which the lord hath over a bond- 
man; but that reason hath over the imagination that com¬ 
mandment which a magistrate hath over a free citizen; 8 
who may come also to rule in his turn. For we see that, 
in matters of faith and religion, we raise our imagination 
above our reason; which is the cause why religion sought 
ever access to the mind by similitude, types, parables, 
visions, dreams. And again, in all persuasions that are 
wrought by eloquence, and other impressions of like 
nature, which do paint and disguise the true appearance of 
things, the chief recommendation unto reason is from the 
imagination. Nevertheless, because I find not any science, 
that doth properly or fitly pertain to the imagination, I see 
no cause to alter the former division. For as for poesy, it is 
rather a pleasure or play of imagination, than a work or duty 
thereof. And if it be a work, we speak not now of such 
parts of learning as the imagination produceth, but of such 
sciences as handle and consider of the imagination; no 
more than we shall speak now of such knowledges as reason 
produceth, for that extendeth to all philosophy, but of such 
knowledges as do handle and inquire the faculty of reason: 
so as poesy had its true place. As for the power of the imagi¬ 
nation in nature, and the manner of fortifying the same, we 


8 Aristot. Polit. i. 5, 6. 



Reasoning the Key of all Arts. 117 

have mentioned it in the doctrine De Anima, whereunto it 
mostfitly belongeth. And lastly, for Imaginative or Insinua- 
tive Reason, which is the subject of rhetoric, we think it best 
to refer it to the Arts of Reason. So therefore we content 
ourselves with the former division, that human philosophy, 
which respecteth the faculties of the mind of man, hath 
two parts, rational and moral. 

2. The part of human philosophy which is rational, is 
of all knowledges, to the most wits, the least delightful, 
and seemeth but a net of subtilty and spinosity. For as it 
was truly said, that knowledge is Pabulum Animif so in 
the nature of men s appetite to this food, most men are of 
the taste, and stomach of the Israelites in the desert, that 
would fain have returned ad ollas carnium, and were weary 
of manna; which, though it were celestial, yet seemed less 
nutritive and comfortable. So generally men taste well 
knowledges that are drenched in flesh and blood, civil his¬ 
tory, morality, policy, about the which men’s affections, 
praises, fortunes do turn and are conversant; but this 
same lumen siccum doth parch and offend most men’s 
watery and soft natures. But, to speak truly of things as 
they are in worth, Rational Knowledges are the keys of all 
other arts; for as Aristotle saith, aptly and elegantly. 
That the hand is the instrument of instruments , and the mind 
is the form of forms d so these be truly said to be the art 
of arts: neither do they only direct, but likewise confirm 
and strengthen: even as the habit of shooting doth not 
only enable to shoot a nearer shoot, but also to draw a 
stronger bow. 

3. The Arts intellectual are four in number; divided 
according to the ends whereunto they are referred: for 
man’s labour is to invent that which is sought or pro¬ 
pounded : or to judge that which is invented ; or to retain 
that which is judged; or to deliver over that which is 
retained. So as the arts must be four: Art of Inquiry or 
Invention: Art of Examination or Judgment ? Art of 
Custody or Memory: and Art of Elocution or Tradition. 

XIII. 1 . Invention is of two kinds, much 
differing: the one of Arts and Sciences ; and v Inven- 
the other of Speech and Arguments. The twn ' 
former of these I do report deficient; which seemeth to 


9 He seems to refer to Cic. Acad. Pri, ii. 41. Est enim ammo - 
rum ingeniorumque naturale quoddam quasi pabulum consideratio 
contemplatioque naturae. 

* Aristot. de part. Anim. iv. 10.21. 



118 


Deficiency of the Art of Invention. 

me to be such, a deficience as if, in the making of an inven¬ 
tory touching the estate of a defunct, it should be set 
down, that there is no ready money. For as money will 
fetch all other commodities, so this knowledge is that 
which should purchase all the rest. And like as the West 
Indies had never been discovered if the use of the mari¬ 
ner’s needle had not been first discovered, though the one 
be vast regions, and the other a small motion; so it cannot 
be found strange if sciences be no farther discovered, if the 
art itself of invention and discovery hath been passed over. 

That this part of knowledge is wanting, to my judg¬ 
ment standeth plainly confessed; for first, Logie doth not 
pretend to invent sciences, or the axioms of sciences, but 
passeth it over with a Cuique in sua arte credendu/m? 
And Celsus acknowledgeth it gravely, speaking of the Em¬ 
pirical and dogmatical sects of physicians, That medicines 
and cures were first found out , and then after the reasons 
and causes were discoursed; and not the causes first found 
out, and by light from them the medicines and cures dis¬ 
covered . 2 3 And Plato, in his Theaetetus, noteth well, That 
particulars are infinite, and the higher generalities give no 
sufficient direction: and that the pith of all sciences, which 
malceth the artsman differ from the inexpert , is in the middle 
propositions, which in every particular knowledge are taken 
from tradition and experience . 4 And therefore we see, 
that they which discourse of the inventions and originals 
of things, refer them rather to chance than to art, and 
rather to beasts, birds, fishes, serpents, than to men. 
Dictamnum genetrix Cretsea carpit ab Ida, 

Puberibus caulem foliis et flore comantem 
Purpureo; non ilia feris incognita capris 
Gramina, cum tergo volucres haesere sagittae. 5 

So that it was no marvel, the manner of antiquity being 
to consecrate inventors, that the Egyptians had so few 
human idols in their temples, but almost all brute. 
Omnigenumque Deum monstra, et latrator Anubis, 

Contra Neptunum, et Venerem, contraque Minervam, &c. 8 

2 See Whateley, Introd. § 5; Book iii. (on Fallacies') § 2; and 
Book iv. on the Province of Reasoning. Bacon perhaps had in his 

mind, Aristot. Eth. Mag. i. 1, 17. * De re Med. i. 3. 

4 I can find no passage in the Theaetetus which exactly corre¬ 
sponds to this sentence, though its general drift might be easily 
drawn from that dialogue or others (cf. the Philebus). In the Latin 
edition, he merely says Plato often observes, which looks like a 
tacit correction. 

5 Virg. Ain. xii. 412. 


6 AEn. viii. 697. 



Discoveries hitherto chiefly accidental. 119 

And if you like better the tradition of the Grecians, and 
ascribe the first inventions to men; yet you will rather 
believe that Prometheus first stroke the flints, and mar¬ 
velled at the spark, than that when he first stroke the 
flints he expected the spark: and therefore we see the 
West Indian Prometheus had no intelligence with the 
European, because of the rareness with them of flint, that 
gave the first occasion. So as it should seem, that hitherto 
men are rather beholding to a wild goat for surgery, or to 
' a nightingale for music, or to the ibis for some part of 
physic, or to the pot-lid that flew open for artillery, or 
generally to chance, or anything else, than to logic, for 
the invention of arts and sciences. Neither is the form of 
invention which Virgil describeth much other: 

Ut vai-ias usus meditando extunderet artes 

Paulatim. 7 

For if you observe the words well, it is no other method 
than that which brute beasts are capable of, and do put in 
ure; which is a perpetual intending or practising some 
one thing, urged and imposed by an absolute necessity of 
conservation of being ; for so Cicero saith very truly, Usus 
uni rei deditus et naturam et artem scope vincit. 8 And 
therefore if it be said of men, 

Labor omnia vicit 

Improbus, et duris urgens in rebus egestas ! 9 

it is likewise said of beasts, Quis psittaco docuit suum 
xdipe ? 1 Who taught the raven in a drought to throw 
pebbles into a hollow tree, where she espied water, that 
the water might rise so as she might come to it ? Who 
taught the bee to sail through such a vast sea of air, and 
to find the way from a field in flower, a great way off, to 
her hive P Who taught the ant to bite every grain of 
corn that she burieth in her hill, lest it should take root 
and grow? Add then the word extundere, which im- 
porteth the extreme difficulty, and the word paulatim , 
which importeth the extreme slowness, and we are where 
we were, even amongst the Egyptians’ gods; there being 
little left to the faculty of reason, and nothing to the duty 
of art, for matter of invention. 

2. Secondly, the Induction which the Logicians speak 
of, and which seemeth familiar with Plato, (whereby the 
Principles of Sciences, may be pretended to be invented. 


7 Georg, i. 133. 
9 Georg, i. 146. 


8 Cic. p. Corn. Balb. xx. 
i Pers. Prol. 8. 



120 Weakness of Induction from particulars. 

and so the middle propositions by derivation from the 
Principles;) their form of induction, I say, is utterly 
vicious and incompetent: wherein their error is the fouler, 
because it is the duty of Art to perfect and exalt nature ; 
but they contrariwise have wronged, abused, and traduced 
nature. For he that shall attentively observe how the 
mind doth gather this excellent dew of knowledge, like 
unto that which the poet speaketh of, Aerei mellis ccelestia 
dona, 2 distilling and contriving it out of particulars natural 
and artificial, as the flowers of the field and garden, shall 
find that the mind of herself by nature doth manage and 
act an induction much better than they describe it. For 
to conclude upon an enumeration of particulars, without 
instance contradictory, is no conclusion, but a conjecture; 
for who can assure, in many subjects, upon those par¬ 
ticulars which appear of a side, that there are not other on 
the contrary side which appear not P As if Samuel should 
have rested upon those sons of Jesse which were brought 
before him, and failed of David, which was in the field. 3 
And this form, to say truth, is so gross, as it had not 
been possible for wits so subtile as have managed 
these things to have offered it to the world, but that they 
hasted to their theories and dogmaticals, and were im¬ 
perious and scornful toward particulars; which their 
manner was to use but as lictores and viatores , for sar- 
jeants and whifflers, ad summovendam turbam, to make 
way and make room for their opinions, rather than in 
their true use and service. Certainly it is a thing may 
touch a man with a religious wonder, to see how the foot¬ 
steps of seducement are the very same in divine and 
human truth: for as in divine truth man cannot endure to 
become as a child; so in human, they reputed the 
attending the inductions whereof we speak, as if it were a 
second infancy or childhood. 

8. Thirdly, allow some principles or axioms were 
rightly induced, yet nevertheless certain it is that middle 
propositions cannot be deduced from them in subject of 
nature by syllogism, that is, by touch and reduction of 
them to principles in a middle term. It is true that in 
sciences popular, as moralities, laws, and the like, yea, 
and divinity, (because it pleaseth God to apply himself to 
the capacity of the simplest,) that form may have use; 
and in natural philosophy likewise, by way of argument 
or satisfactory reason, Qjiub assensum parit, operis effceta 


2 Virg. Georg, iv. 1. 


9 1 Sam. c. xvi. 



Error to le charged less on the Senses than the Intellect. 121 

est: but the subtlety of nature and operations will not be 
enchained in those bonds: for arguments consist of pro¬ 
positions and propositions of words; and words are but 
the current tokens or marks of popular notions of things; 
which notions, if they be grossly and variably collected 
out of particulars, it is not the laborious examination either 
of consequence of arguments, or of the truth of proposi¬ 
tions, that can ever correct that error, being, as the 
physicians speak, in the first digestion: and therefore it 
was not without cause, that so many excellent philosophers 
became Sceptics and Academics, and denied any certainty 
of knowledge or comprehension; and held opinion that 
the knowledge of man extended only to appearances and 
probabilities. It is true that in Socrates it was supposed to 
be but a form of irony, Scientiam dissimulando simulavit: 4 
for he used to disable his knowledge, to the end to enhance 
his knowledge: like the humour of Tiberius in his begin¬ 
nings, that would reign, but would not acknowledge so 
much : 5 and in the later Academy, which Cicero embraced, 
this opinion also of acatalepsia , 6 I doubt, was not held sin¬ 
cerely : for that all those which excelled in copie of speech 
seem to have chosen that sect, as that which was fittest to 
give glory to their eloquence and variable discourses; being 
rather like progresses of pleasure, than journeys to an end. 
But assuredly many scattered in both Academies did hold 
it in subtilty and integrity: but here was their chief error; 
they charged the deceit upon the senses; which in my 
judgment, notwithstanding all their cavillations, are very 
sufficient to certify and report truth, though not always 
immediately, yet by comparison, by help of instrument, 
and by producing and urging such things as are too subtile 
for the sense to some effect comprehensible by the sense, 
and other like assistance. 7 But they ought to have charged 
the deceit upon the weakness of the intellectual powers, and 
upon the manner of collecting and concluding upon the 
reports of the senses. This I speak, not to disable the mind 
of man, but to stir it up to seek help : for no man, be he 
never so cunning or practised, can make a straight line or 
perfect circle by steadiness of hand, which may be easily 
done by help of a ruler or compass. 


* vid. Cic. Acad. ii. 5. 15. 5 Vid. Tac. Ann. i. 7. 11. 

6 Cic. Acad. ii. 6, 18. 

7 See a comparison of the certainty of knowledge derived from 
sense and from faith in Hooker, serm. On the Certainty and Per¬ 
petuity of Faith in the Elect , and Answer to Travers, § 9. 



122 


In Speakers, Preparation of Arguments , 

This part of invention, concerning the invention of 
sciences, I purpose, if God give me leave, hereafter to 
propound, having digested it into two parts; whereof the 
one I term experientia literata, and the other interpretatio 
natures: the former being but a degree and rudiment ot 
the latter. But I will not dwell too long, nor speak too 
great upon a promise. 8 

4. The invention of speech or argument is not properly 
an invention. for to invent is to discover that we know not, 
and not to recover or resummon that which we already 
know : and the use of this invention is no other but, out of 
the knowledge whereof our mind is already possessed, to 
draw forth or call before us that which may be pertinent to 
the purpose which we take into our consideration. So as 
to speak truly, it is no invention, but a remembrance or 
suggestion, with an application; which is the cause why 
the schools do place it after judgment, as subsequent and 
not precedent. Nevertheless, because we do account it a 
chase as well of deer in an inclosed park as in a forest at 
large, and that it hath already obtained the name, let it 
be called invention: so as it be perceived and discerned, 
that the scope and end of this invention is readiness and 
present use of our knowledge, and not addition or amplifi¬ 
cation thereof. 

5. To procure this ready use of knowledge there are 
two courses, Preparation and Suggestion. The former of 
these seemeth scarcely a part of knowledge, consisting 
rather of diligence than of any artificial erudition. And 
herein Aristotle wittily, but hurtfully, doth deride the 
Sophists near his time, saying, They did as if one that 
professed the art of shoe-making should not teach how to 
make a shoe , hut only exhibit in a readiness a number of 
shoes of all fashions and sizes. 9 But yet a man might reply, 
that if a shoemaker should have no shoes in his shop, but 
only work as he is bespoken, he should be weakly customed. 
But our Saviour, speaking of divine knowledge, saith, that 
the kingdom of heaven is like a good householder , that 
bringeth forth both new and old store: 1 and we see the 
ancient writers of Rhetoric do give it in precept, that 


8 In the Latin edition, Bacon explains at great length what he 
means by experientia liiterata , pointing out various methods of 
making experiments, with examples. Of the interpretatio natures 
he says nothing, but promises, under God’s favour, the speedy pro¬ 
duction of the Novum Organum. 

9 Aristot. El. Soph. 33. 


1 Matt. xiii. 52, 



and Store of Commonplaces commended. 123 

pleaders should have the places, whereof they have most 
continual use, ready handled in all the variety that may 
be ; as that, to speak for the literal interpretation of the 
law against equity, and contrary; and to speak for pre¬ 
sumptions and inferences against testimony, and contrary. 
And Cicero himself, being broken unto it by great expe¬ 
rience, delivereth it plainly, that whatsoever a man shall 
have occasion to speak of, if he will take the pains, he may 
have it in effect premeditate, and handled, in thesif so that 
when he cometh to a particular he shall have nothing to do, 
but to put to names, and times, and places, and such other 
circumstances of individuals. We see likewise the exact 
diligence of Demosthenes; who, in regard of the great 
force that the entrance and access into causes hath to make 
a good impression, had ready framed a number of prefaces 
for orations and speeches. 2 3 All which authorities and 
precedents may overweigh Aristotle’s opinion, that would 
have us change a rich wardrobe for a pair of shears. 

But the nature of the collection of this provision or 
preparatory store, though it be common both to Logic and 
.Rhetoric, yet having made an entry of it here, where it came 
first to be spoken of, I think fit to refer over the further 
handling of it to Rhetoric. 

6. The other part of invention, which I term suggestion, 
doth assign and direct us to certain marks, or places, which 
may excite our mind to return and produce such knowledge 
as it hath formerly collected, to the end we may make use 
thereof. Neither is this use, truly taken, only to furnish 
argument to dispute probably with others, but likewise to 
minister unto our judgment to conclude aright within our¬ 
selves. Neither may these places serve only to apprompt 
our invention, but also to direct our inquiry. For a 
faculty of wise interrogating is half a knowledge. For as 
Plato saith, Whosoever seeketh , Tcnoweth that which he 
seeketh for in a general notion: else how shall he know it 
when he hath found it ? 4 and therefore the larger your anti¬ 
cipation is, the more direct and compendious is your search. 
But the same places which will help us what to produce of 
that which we know already, will also help us, if a man of 
experience were before us, what questions to ask; or, if 
we have books and authors to instruct us, what points to 
search and revolve; so as I cannot report that this part of 


2 Cic. Orat. 14. cf. ad Att. xvi. 6. 

• 3 The prefaces referred to are of doubtful authority. 

4 Plato, Menon. ii. 80. 



124 Topics general and special. 

invention, which is that which the schools call Topics, is 
deficient. 

7. Nevertheless, Topics are of two sorts, general and 
special. The general we have spoken to ; but the particular 
hath been touched by some, but rejected generally as in¬ 
artificial and variable. But leaving the humour which 
hath reigned too much in the schools, which is, to be vainly 
subtle in a few things which are within their command, 
and to reject the rest; I do receive particular Topics, (that 
is, places or directions of invention and inquiry in every 
particular knowledge,) as things of great use, being mix¬ 
tures of Logic with the matter of sciences; for in these it 
holdeth, ars inveniendi adolescit cum inventis; for as in 
going of a way, we do not only gain that part of the way 
which is passed, but we gain the better sight of that part 
of the way which remaineth: so every degree of proceed¬ 
ing in a science giveth a light to that which followeth; 
which light if we strengthen by drawing it forth into 
questions or places of inquiry, we do greatly advance our 
pursuit. 5 

nfTrJn f XIY. 1. Now we pass unto the arts of 
j. in gme i . j U( jg men ^ } w hich handle the natures of proofs 
and demonstrations; which as to induction hath a coin¬ 
cidence with invention. For all inductions, whether in 
good or vicious form, the same action of the mind which 
inventeth, judgeth; all one as in the sense. But otherwise it 
is in proof by syllogism; for the proof being not imme¬ 
diate, but by mean, the invention of the mean is one thing, 
and the judgment of the consequence is another; the one 
exciting only, the other examining. Therefore, for the 
real and exact form of judgment, we refer ourselves to that 
which we have spoken of interpretation of nature. 

2. For the other judgment by syllogism, as it is a thing 
most agreeable to the mind of man, so it hath been vehe¬ 
mently and excellently laboured; for the nature of man 
doth extremely covet to have somewhat in his understand¬ 
ing fixed and immovable, and as a rest and support of the 
mind. And therefore as Aristotle endeavoureth to prove, 
that in all motion there is some point quiescent : 6 and as 
he elegantly expoundeth the ancient fable of Atlas, that 
stood fixed, and bare up the heaven from falling, to be 
meant of the poles or axle-tree of heaven, whereupon the 


5 In the Latin edition an inquiry de gravi et levi is here inserted 
as an example of right treatment of a topic. 

6 Aristot. de Motu Anim. 3. 



Judgment by Induction and Syllogism. 125 

conversion is accomplished : so assuredly men have a de¬ 
sire to have an Atlas or axle-tree within to keep them from 
fluctuation, which is like to a perpetual peril of falling; 
therefore men did hasten to set down some principles about 
which the variety of their disputations might turn. 

3. So then this art of judgment is but the reduction of 
propositions to principles in a middle term: the principles 
to be agreed by all and exempted from argument; the 
middle term to be elected at the liberty of every man’s 
invention; the reduction to be of two kinds, direct and 
inverted; the one when the proposition is reduced to the 
principle, which they term a probation ostensive; 7 the other, 
w hen the contradictory of the proposition is reduced to 
the contradictory of the principle, which is that which they 
call per incommodum , oppressing an dbswrdity ; the number 
of middle terms to be as the proposition standeth degrees 
more or less removed from the principle. 

4. But this art hath two several methods of doctrine, 
the one by way of direction, the other by way of caution: 
the former frameth and setteth down a true form of conse¬ 
quence, by the variations and deflections from wdiich errors 
and inconsequences may be exactly judged. Toward the 
composition and structure of which form, it is incident to 
handle the parts thereof, which are propositions, and the 
parts of propositions, which are simple words: and this is 
that part of Logic which is comprehended in the Analytics. 

5. The second method of doctrine was introduced for 
expedite use and assurance sake; discovering the more 
subtle forms of sophisms and illaqueations with their redar- 
gutions, which is that which is termed elenclies. Tor 
although in the more gross sorts of fallacies it happeheth, 
as Seneca maketh the comparison well, as in juggling feats, 
which, though we know not how they are done, yet we 
know well it is not as it seemeth to be; 8 yet the more 
subtle sort of them doth not only put a man beside his 
answer, but doth many times abuse his judgment. 

6. This part concerning elenclies is excellently handled 
by Aristotle in precept, but more excellently by Plato in 
example, not only in the persons of the Sophists, but even 
in Socrates himself; who, professing to affirm nothing, but 
to infirm that which was affirmed by another, hath exactly 
expressed all the forms of objection, fallacy, and redargu- 


7 Called ostensive reduction , because you must prove either the 
very same conclusion as before, or one which implies */.—Wliately, 
Log. ii. iii. 5. 8 Sen. Epist. Mor. v. 4. 



126 


Of the art of r f ating Sophisms. 

tion. 9 And although we have said that the use of this 
doctrine is for redargution, yet it is manifest the degenerate 
and corrupt use is for caption and contradiction, which 
passeth for a great faculty, and no doubt is of very great 
advantage: though the difference be good which was made 
between orators and sophisters, that the one is as the 
greyhound, which hath his advantage in the race, and the 
other as the hare, which hath her advantage in the turn, 
so as it is the advantage of the weaker creature. 

7. But yet further, this doctrine of elenches hath a more 
ample latitude and extent than is perceived; namely, unto 
divers parts of knowledge; whereof some are laboured and 
others omitted. For first, I conceive, though it may seem 
at first somewhat strange, that that part which is variably 
referred, sometimes to logic, sometimes to metaphysics, 
touching the common adjuncts of essences, is but an elench; 
for the great sophism of all sophisms being equivocation 
or ambiguity of words and phrase, (especially of such 
words as are most general, and intervene in every inquiry,) 
it seemeth to me that the true and fruitful use, leaving 
vain subtilties and speculations, of the inquiry of majority , 
minority , priority, posteriority, identity, diversity, possi¬ 
bility, act, totality, parts, existence, privation, and the like, 
are but wise cautions against the ambiguities of speech. So 
again the distribution of things into certain tribes, which 
we call categories or predicaments, are but cautions against 
the confusion of definitions and divisions. 

8. Secondly, there is a seducement that worketh by _ 
the strength of the impression, and not by the subtilty of 
the illaqueation; not so much perplexing the reason, as 
overruling it by power of the imagination. But this 
part I think more proper to handle when I shall speak of 
rhetoric. 1 

9. But lastly, there is yet a much more important and 
profound kind of fallacies in the mind of man, which I 
find not observed or inquired at all, and think good to 
place here, as that which of all others appertaineth most 
to rectify judgment: the force whereof is such, as it doth 
not dazzle or snare the understanding in some particulars, 


9 Compare the account which Socrates gives of himself in the 
opening of the Theaetetus. 

1 The following section is greatly enlarged and improved in the 
Latin edition, which should be read, together with Nov. Org. i. 
Aph. 47, 59; ii. Aph. 28. 



Of certain Fallacies prevalent among Mankind. 127 

but doth more generally and inwardly infect and corrupt 
the state thereof. For the mind of man is far from the 
nature of a clear and equal glass, wherein the beams of 
things should reflect according to their true incidence; nay, 
it is rather like an enchanted glass, full of superstition and 
imposture, if it be not delivered and reduced. For this 
purpose, let us consider the false appearances that are 
imposed upon us by the general nature of the mind, be¬ 
holding them in an example or two; as first, in that in¬ 
stance which is the root of all superstition, namely, That 
to the nature of the mind of all men it is consonant for the 
affirmative or active to affect more than the negative or 
privative: so that a few times hitting or presence, counter¬ 
vails oft-times failing or absence; as was well answered 
by Diagoras to him that showed him in Neptune’s temple 
the great number of pictures of such as had escaped ship¬ 
wreck, and had paid tneir vows to Neptune, saying, Advise 
now, you that thinlc it folly to invocate Neptune in tempest: 
Yea, but, saith Diagoras, where are they painted that are 
drowned ? 2 Let us behold it in another instance, namely, 
That the spirit of man, being of an equal and uniform 
substance, doth usually suppose and feign in nature a 
greater equality and uniformity than is in truth. Hence it 
cometh, that the mathematicians cannot satisfy themselves 
except they reduce the motions of the celestial bodies to 
perfect circles, rejecting spiral lines, and labouring to be 
discharged of eccentrics. 3 Hence it cometh, that whereas 
there are many things, in nature, as it were, monodica , 
sui juris; yet the cogitations of man do feign unto them 
relatives, parallels, and conjugates, whereas no such thing 
is ; as they have feigned an element of fire, to keep square 
with earth, water, and air, and the like: nay, it is not 
credible, till it be opened, what a number of fictions and 
fancies the similitude of human actions and arts, together 
with the making of man communis mensura, have brought 
into natural philosophy; not much better than the heresy 
of the Anthropomorphites, bred in the cells of gross and 
solitary monks, and the opinion of Epicurus, answerable 
to the same in heathenism, who supposed the Gods to be 


2 Cic. de Nat. Deor. iii. 37. 

8 This reproach was removed by Kepler’s discoveries, made known 
only a few years after the publication of the Advancement of 
Learning. See Hallam. Hist, of Lit. iii. 185. 



128 Errors induced ly Custom and Misuse of Words. 

of human shape. 4 And therefore Velleius the Epicurean 
needed not to have asked, why Grod should have adorned 
the heavens with stars, as if he had been an cedilis, one 
that should have set forth some magnificent shows or 
plays. 5 For if that great Work-master had been of a 
human disposition, he would have cast the stars into some 
pleasant and beautiful works and orders, like the frets in 
the roofs of houses ; whereas one can scarce find a posture 
in square, or triangle, or straight line, amongst such an 
infinite number; so differing a harmony there is between 
the spirit of man and the spirit of nature. 

Let us consider again the false appearances imposed 
upon us by every man’s own individual nature and custom, 
in that feigned supposition that Plato 6 maketh of the 
cave : for certainly if a child were continued in a grot or 
cave under the earth until maturity of age, and came 
suddenly abroad, he would have strange and absurd ima¬ 
ginations. So in like manner, although our persons live 
in the view of heaven, yet our spirits are included in the 
caves of our own complexions apd customs, which minister 
unto us infinite errors and vain opinions, if they be not 
recalled to examination. But hereof we have given many 
examples in one of the errors, or peccant humours, which 
we ran briefly over in our first book. 

And lastly, let us consider the false appearances that 
are imposed upon us by words, which are framed and 
applied according to the conceit and capacities of the 
vulgar sort: and although we think we govern our words, 
and prescribe it well loquendum ut vulgus sentiendum ut 
sapientes; yet certain it is that words, as a Tartar’s bow, 
do shoot back upon the understanding of the wisest, and 
mightily entangle and pervert the judgment. So as it is 
almost necessary, in all controversies and disputations, to 
imitate the wisdom of the mathematicians, in setting down 
in the very beginning the definitions of our words and 
terms, that others may know how we accept and under¬ 
stand them, and whether they concur with us or no. For 


4 See the account of the heresy of Audios. Epiph. adv. Haer. 
p. 811. He held that the expression, “ created in the image of God,” 
had reference to the body. Bacon was probably thinking of the 
squabbles among the ignorant monks of Nitria, some of whom sup¬ 
posed that the Deity had actually feet and hands. Vid. Mosheim 
i. 436. 

* Cic. de Nat. I) cor. i. 9. 


6 Vid. de Rep. lib. vii. init. 



Confusion of Proofs. 129 

it cometk to pass, for want of this, that we are sure to 
end there where we ought to have begun, which is, in 
questions and differences about words. To conclude 
therefore, it must be confessed that it is not possible to 
divorce ourselves from these fallacies and false appearances, 
because they are inseparable from our nature and condi¬ 
tion of life; so yet nevertheless the caution of them, (for 
all elenches, as was said, are but cautions,) doth extremely 
import the true conduct of human judgment. The par¬ 
ticular elenches or cautions against these three false ap¬ 
pearances, I find altogether deficient. 

10. There remaineth one part of judgment of great 
excellency, which to mine understanding is so slightly 
touched, as I may report that also deficient; which is the 
application of the differing kinds of proofs to the differing 
kinds of subjects; for there being but four kinds of de¬ 
monstrations, that is, by the immediate consent of the 
mind or sense, by induction , by syllogism, and by congruity 
(which is that which Aristotle calleth demonstration in orb 
or circle , 7 and not a notioribus;) every of these hath 
certain subjects in the matter of sciences, in which re¬ 
spectively they have chiefest use; and certain others, from 
which respectively they ought to be excluded; and the 
rigour and curiosity in requiring the more severe proofs in 
some things, and chiefly the facility in contenting ourselves 
with the more remiss proofs in others, hath been amongst 
the greatest causes of detriment and hindrance to know¬ 
ledge. The distributions and assignations of demonstra¬ 
tions, according to the analogy of sciences, I note as 
deficient. 

XV. 1. The custody or retaining of know- qj t j ie p re _ ' 
ledge is either in writing or memory; whereof serration of 
writing hath two parts, the nature of the cha- Knowledge. 
racter, and the order of the entry; for the art 
of characters, or other visible notes of words or things, it 
hath nearest conjugation with grammar; and therefore I 
refer it to the due place : for the disposition and colloca¬ 
tion of that knowledge which we preserve in writing, it 
consisteth in a good digest of common-places; wherein I 
am not ignorant of the prejudice imputed to the use of 
common-place books, as causing a retardation of reading. 


7 Aristot. Analyt. Pri. ii. 5. 1. 
K 



130 Worthlessness of Sleights of Memory. 

and some sloth or relaxation of memory. But because it 
is but a counterfeit thing in knowledges to be forward and 
pregnant, except a man be deep and full, I hold the entry 
of common-places, to be a matter of great use and essence 
in studying, as that which assureth copie of invention, 
and contracteth judgment to a strength. But this is true, 
that of the methods of common-places that I have seen, 
there is none of any sufficient worth; all of them carrying 
merely the face of a school, and not of a world; and 
referring to vulgar matters and pedantical divisions, with¬ 
out all life, or respect to action. 

2. For the other principal part of the custody of know¬ 
ledge, which is memorv, I find that faculty in my judgment 
weakly inquired of. An art there is extant of it; but it 
seemeth to me that there are better precepts than that 
art, and better practices of that art than those received. 
It is certain the art, as it is, may be raised to points of 
ostentation prodigious : but in use, as it is now managed, 
it is barren, (not burdensome, nor dangerous to natural 
memory, as is imagined, but barren,) that is, not dexterous 
to be applied to the serious use of business and occasions. 
And therefore I make no more estimation of repeating a 
great number of names or words upon once hearing, or 
the pouring forth of a number of verses or rhimes, ex 
tempore, or the making of a satirical simile of everything 
or the turning of everything to a jest, or the falsifying or 
contradicting of everything by cavil, or the like, (whereof 
in the faculties of the mind there is great copie, and such 
as by device and practice may be exalted to an extreme 
degree of wonder,) than I do of the tricks of tumblers 
funambuloes, baladines; the one being the same in the 
mind that the other is in the body, matters of strangeness 
without worthiness. 

3. This art of memory is but built upon two intentions; 
the one prenotion, the other emblem. Prenotion dis¬ 
charged the indefinite seeking of that we would re¬ 
member, and directed us to seek in a narrow compass, 
that is, somewhat that hath congruity with our place of 
memory. Emblem reduced conceits intellectual to images 
sensible, which strike the memory more; out of which 
axioms may be drawn much better practice than that in 
use; and besides which axioms, there are divers moe 
touching help of memory, not inferior to them. But I did 
in the beginning distinguish, not to report those things 
deficient, which are but only ill managed. 


Hieroglyphics. 131 

XVI. 1. There 8 remaineth the fourth kind 
of rational knowledge, which is transitive, Transmis- 
concerning the expressing or transferring our of 
knowledge to others ; which I will term by the Knowledge. 
general name of tradition or delivery. Tradi¬ 
tion hath three parts; the first concerning the organ of 
tradition: the second concerning the method of tradition; 
and the third concerning the illustration of tradition. 

2. For the organ of tradition, it is either speech or 
writing: for Aristotle saith well, Words are the images of 
cogitations , and letters are the images of words ; 9 but yet 
it is not of necessity that cogitations be expressed by the 
medium of words. For whatsoever is capable of sufficient 
differences, and those perceptible by the sense, is in nature 
competent to express cogitations. And therefore we see in 
the commerce of barbarous people, that understand not 
one another’s language, and in the practice of divers that 
are dumb and deaf, that men’s minds are expressed in 
gestures, though not exactly, yet to serve the turn. And 
we understand further, that it is the use of China, and the 
kingdoms of the High Levant, to write in characters real, 
which express neither letters nor words in gross, but things 
or notions; insomuch as countries and provinces, which 
understand not one another’s language, can nevertheless 
read one another’s writings, because the characters are 
accepted more generally than the languages do extend; 
and therefore they have a vast multitude of characters, as 
many, I suppose, as radical words. 

3. These notes of cogitations are of two sorts; the one 
when the note hath some similitude or congruity with the 
notion: the other ad placitum, having force only by 
contract or acceptation. Of the former sort are hierogly¬ 
phics and gestures. For as to hieroglyphics, things of 
ancient use, and embraced chiefly by the Egyptians, one 
of the most ancient nations, they are but as continued 
impresses and emblems. And as for gestures, they are as 
transitory hieroglyphics, and are to hieroglyphics as words 
spoken are to words written, in that they abide not; but 
they have evermore, as well as the other, an affinity with 
the things signified: as Periander, being consulted with 
how to preserve a tyranny newly usurped, bid the mes¬ 
senger attend and report what he saw him do; and went 
into his garden and topped all the highest flowers : sig nif y. 


8 In the Latin edition, this chapter opens the sixth book. 
9 Aristot. de Interpret . i. 2. 

K 2 



132 


Use of Grammar. 

mg, that it consisted in the cutting off and keeping low of 
the nobility and grandees. 1 Ad jplacitum, are the charac¬ 
ters real before mentioned, and words: although some 
have been willing by curious inquiry, or rather by apt 
feigning to have derived imposition of names from reason 
and intendment; a speculation elegant, and, by reason it 
searcheth into antiquity, reverent; but sparingly mixed 
with truth, and of small fruit. This portion of knowledge, 
touching the notes of things, and cogitations in general, 
I find not inquired, but deficient. And although it may 
seem of no great use, considering that words and writings 
by letters do far excel all the other ways; yet because 
this part concerneth, as it were, the mint of knowledge, 
(for words are the tokens current and accented for con¬ 
ceits, as moneys are for values, and that it is fit men be 
not ignorant that moneys may be of another kind than gold 
and silver,) I thought good to propound it to better inquiry. 

4. Concerning speech and words, the consideration of 
them hath produced the science of grammar: for man 
still striveth to reintegrate himself in those benedictions, 
from which by his fault he hath been deprived; and as he 
hath striven against the first general curse by the inven¬ 
tion of all other arts, so hath he sought to come forth of 
the second general curse, which was the confusion of 
tongues, by the art of grammar; whereof the use in a 
mother tongue is small, in a foreign tongue more; but 
most in such foreign tongues as have ceased to be vulgar 
tongues, and are turned only to learned tongues. The 
duty of it is of two natures; the one popular, which is for 
the speedy and perfect attaining languages, as well for 
intercourse of speech as for understanding of authors; the 
other philosophical, examining the power and nature of 
words, as they are the footsteps and prints of reason: 
which kind of analogy between words and reason is 
handled sjparsim , brokenly though not entirely; and 
therefore I cannot report it deficient, though I think it 
very worthy to be reduced into a science by itself. 

5. Unto grammar also belongeth, as an appendix, the 
consideration of the accidents of words; which are mea¬ 
sure, sound, and elevation or accent, and the sweetness 


1 Aristot. Polit. iii. 13. The person who sent to consult Peri- 
ander was Thrasybulus of Miletus. Herodotus (v. 92) gives the 
opposite version of the story, making Periander consult Thrasy¬ 
bulus. Compare the story of Tarquinius Superbus, told by Ovid. 
Fast. ii. 701. 



133 


Ciphers. 

and harshness of them ; whence hath issued some curious 
observations in rhetoric, but chiefly poesy, as we consider 
it, in respect of the verse and not of the argument; 
wherein though men in learned tongues do tie themselves 
to the ancient measures, yet in modern languages it 
seemeth to me as free to make new measures of verses as 
of dances: for a dance is a measured pace, as a verse is a 
measured speech. In these things the sense is better 
judge than the art; 

Coenoe fercula nostrae 
Mallem convivis quam placuisse cocis. 8 

And of the servile expressing antiquity in an unlike and 
an unfit subject, it is well said, Quod tempore antiquum 
videtur, id incongruitate est maxime novum. 

6. For ciphers, they are commonly in letters or alpha¬ 
bets, but may be in words. The kinds of ciphers, besides 
the simple ciphers, with changes, and intermixtures of 
nulls and non-significants, are many, according to the 
nature or rule of the infolding, wheel-ciphers, key-ciphers, 
doubles, &c. But the virtues of them, whereby they are 
to be preferred, are three ; that they be not laborious to 
write and read; that they be impossible to decipher; and, 
in some cases, that they be without suspicion. The highest 
degree whereof is to write omnia per omnia; which is 
undoubtedly possible, with a proportion quintuple at most 
of the writing infolding to the writing infolded, and 
no other restraint whatsoever. This art of ciphering hath 
for relative an art of deciphering, by supposition unpro¬ 
fitable, but, as things are, of great use. For suppose that 
ciphers were well managed, there be multitudes of them 
which exclude the decipherer. But in regard of the raw¬ 
ness and unskilfulness of the hands through which they 
pass, the greatest matters are many times carried in the 
weakest ciphers. 

7. In the enumeration of these private and retired 
arts, it may be thought I seek to make a great muster- 
roll of sciences, naming them for show and ostentation, 
and to little other purpose. But let those which are 
skilful in them judge whether I bring them in only for 
appearance, or whether in that which I speak of them, 
though in few marks, there be not some seed of profi- 
cience. And this must be remembered, that as there be 
many of great account in their countries and provinces, 
which, when they come up to the seat of the estate, are but 


Martial. Epig. ix. 82. 



134 Doctrines propounded and received without assay. 

of mean rank and scarcely regarded; so these arts, being 
here placed with the principal and supreme sciences, seem 
petty things: yet to such as have chosen them to spend 
their labours and studies in them, they seem great matters. 

XVII. 1. For the method of tradition, I 
A , r see it hath moved a controversy in our time. 

S t A{n But as in civil business, if there be a meeting, 
Knowledge anc ^ men wor ds, there is commonly an 

end of the matter for that time, and no pro¬ 
ceeding at all; so in learning, where there is much contro¬ 
versy, there is many times little inquiry. For this part 
of knowledge of method seemeth to me so weakly inquired 
as I shall report it deficient. 

2. Method hath been placed, and that not amiss, in Logic, 
as apart of judgment: for as the doctrine of syllogisms 
comprehendeth the rules of judgment upon that which is 
invented, so the doctrine of method containeth the rules 
of judgment upon that which is to be delivered; for judg¬ 
ment precedeth delivery, as itfolloweth invention. Neither 
is the method or the nature of the tradition material only 
to the use of knowledge, but likewise to the progression 
of knowledge: for since the labour and life of one man 
cannot attain to perfection of knowledge, the wisdom of 
the tradition is that which inspireth the felicity of con¬ 
tinuance and proceeding. And therefore the most real 
diversity of method, is of method referred to use, and 
method referred to progression: whereof the one may be 
termed magistral, and the other of probation. 

3. The latter whereof seemeth to be via deserta et inter- 
clusa. For as knowledges are now delivered, there is a 
kind of contract of error between the deliverer and the 
receiver: for he that delivereth knowledge, desireth to 
deliver it in such form as may be best believed, and not 
as may be best examined; and he that receiveth know¬ 
ledge, desireth rather present satisfaction, than expectant 
inquiry; and so rather not to doubt, than not to err: 
glory making the author not to lay open his weakness, and 
sloth making the disciple not to know his strength. 

4. But knowledge that is delivered as a thread to be 
spun on, ought to be delivered and intimated, if it were 
possible, in the same method wherein it was invented: and 
so is it possible of knowledge induced. But in this same 
anticipated and prevented knowledge, no man knoweth 
how he came to the knowledge which he hath obtained. 
But yet nevertheless, secundum majus et minus, a man 
may revisit and descend unto the foundations of his know- 


Advantages of writing in Aphorisms. 135 

ledge and consent; and so transplant it into another, as it 
grew in his own mind. For it is in knowledges as it is in 
plants: if you mean to use the plant, it is no matter for 
the roots; but if you mean to remove it to grow, then it 
is more assured to rest upon roots than slips: so the deli¬ 
very of knowledges, as it is now used, is as of fair bodies 
of trees without the roots; good for the carpenter, but 
not for the planter. But if you will have sciences grow, 
it is less matter for the shaft or body of the tree, so you 
look well to the taking up of the roots : of which kind of 
delivery the method of the mathematics, in that subject, 
hath some shadow: but generally I see it neither put in ure 
nor put in inquisition, and therefore note it for deficient. 

5. Another diversity of method there is, which hath 
some affinity with the former, used in some cases by the 
discretion of the ancients, but disgraced since by the im¬ 
postures of many vain persons, who have made it as a 
false light for their counterfeit merchandises ; and that is, 
enigmatical and disclosed. The pretence whereof is, to 
remove the vulgar capacities from being admitted to the 
secrets of knowledges, and to reserve them to selected 
auditors, or wits of such sharpness as can pierce the veil. 

6. Another diversity of method, whereof the consequence 
is great, is the delivery of knowledge in aphorisms, or in 
methods; wherein we may observe that it hath been too 
much taken into custom, out of a few axioms or observa¬ 
tions upon any subject, to make a solemn and formal art, 
fillin g it with some discourses, and illustrating it with 
examples, and digesting it into a sensible method. But 
the writing in aphorisms hath many excellent virtues, 
whereto the writing in method doth not approach. For 
first, it trieth the writer, whether he be superficial or 
solid: for aphorisms, except they should be ridiculous, 
cannot be made but of the pith and heart of sciences ; for 
discourse of illustration is cut off: recitals of examples are 
cut off; discourse of connexion and order is cut off; descrip¬ 
tions of practice are cut off. So there remaineth nothing to 
fill the aphorisms but some good quantity of observation: 
and therefore no man can suffice, nor in reason will attempt 
to write aphorisms, but he that is sound and grounded. But 
in methods, 

Tantum series juncturaque pollet, 

Tantum de medio sumptis accedit honoris ; 3 

as a man shall make a great shew of an art, which, if it 


3 Hor. Epist. ad Pis. 242. 



136 


Confutation; Uniformity; Similitudes; 


were disjointed, would come to little. Secondly, methods 
are more fit to win consent or belief, but less fit to point 
to action; for they carry a kind of demonstration in orb 
or circle, one part illuminating another, and therefore 
satisfy; but particulars, being dispersed, do best agree 
with dispersed directions. And lastly, aphorisms, repre¬ 
senting a knowledge broken, do invite men to inquire 
farther; whereas methods, carrying the show of a total, 
do secure men, as if they were at farthest. 

7. Another diversity of method, which is likewise of 
great weight, is the handling of knowledge by assertions 
and their proofs, or by questions and their determinations; 
the latter kind whereof, if it be immoderately followed, is 
as prejudicial to the proceeding of learning, as it is to 
the proceeding of an army to go about to besiege every 
little fort or hold. For if the field be kept, and the sum 
of the enterprise pursued, those smaller things will come 
in of themselves: indeed a man would not leave some 
important piece enemy 4 at his back. In like manner, 
the use of confutation in the delivery of sciences ought to 
be very sparing; and to serve to remove strong pre¬ 
occupations and prejudgments, and not to minister and 
excite disputations and doubts. 

8. Another diversity of method is, according to the 
subject or matter which is handled; for there is a great 
difference in delivery of the mathematics, which are most 
abstracted of knowledges, and policy, which is the most 
immersed: and howsoever contention hath been moved 
touching a uniformity of method in multiformity of 
matter, yet we see how that opinion, besides the weak¬ 
ness of it, hath been of ill desert towards learning, as that 
which taketh the way to reduce learning to certain empty 
and barren generalities; being but the very husks and shells * 
of sciences, all the kernel being forced out and expulsed 
With the torture and press of the method. And therefore 
as 1 did allow well of particular topics for invention, so I 
do allow likewise of particular methods of tradition. 

9. Another diversity of judgment in the delivery and 
teaching of knowledge is, according unto the light and 
presuppositions of that which is delivered; for that know¬ 
ledge which is new, and foreign from opinions received, is 
to be delivered in another form than that that is agreeable 


Vulg. with an enemy; but the reading in the text is found in 
the editions of 1605 and 1633. The Latin edition has urbem 
aliquam magnam et munitam a teryo relinquere haudquanuam 
semper lutum esse. * 1 


Error of Ramus. 137 

and familiar; and therefore Aristotle, when he thinks to tax 
Democritus, doth in truth commend him, where he saith, 
If we shall indeed dispute, and not follow after similitudes, 
fyc. For those whose conceits are seated in popular 
opinions, need only but to prove or dispute; but those 
whose conceits are beyond popular opinions, have a double 
labour; the one to make themselves conceived, and the 
other to prove and demonstrate : so that it is of necessity 
with them to have recourse to similitudes and translations 
to express themselves. And therefore in the infancy of 
learning, and in rude times, when those conceits which are 
now trivial were then new, the world was full of parables 
and similitudes; for else would men either have passed 
over without mark, or else rejected for paradoxes that 
which was offered before they had understood or judged. So 
in divine learning, we see how frequent parables and tropes 
are: for it is a rule, that whatsoever science is not con¬ 
sonant to presuppositions, must pray in aid of similitudes. 

10. There be also other diversities of methods vulgar 
and received: as that of resolution or analysis, of consti¬ 
tution or systasis, of concealment or cryptic, &c., which I 
do allow well of, though I have stood upon those which 
are least handled and observed. All which I have re¬ 
membered to this purpose, because I would erect and con¬ 
stitute one general inquiry, which seems to me deficient, 
touching the wisdom of tradition. 

11. But unto this part of knowledge concerning 
methods doth farther belong not only the architecture of 
the whole frame of a work, but also the several beams and 
columns thereof; not as to their stuff, but as to their 
quantity and figure. And therefore method considereth 
not only the disposition of the argument or subject, but 
likewise the propositions : not as to their truth or matter, 
but as to their limitation and manner. For herein Bam us 5 
merited better a great deal in reviving the good rules of 
propositions, Ka0dAou Trporrov Kara Travros, &c., than he did 
in introducing the canker of epitomes ; and yet (as it is the 
condition of human things that, according to the ancient 
fables, the most precious things have the most pernicious 
iceepers ;) it was so, that the attempt of the one made him 
fall upon the other. For he had need be well conducted 
that should design to make axioms convertible, if he make 
them not withal circular, and non promovent, or incurring 
into themselves; but yet the intention was excellent. 


For an account of Ramus, see Hooker, i. 6, with Keble’s note. 



138 Difficulty of framing Rules for Practice. 

12. The other considerations of method, concerning 
propositions, are chiefly touching the utmost propositions, 
which limit the dimensions of sciences : for every know¬ 
ledge may be fitly said, besides the profundity, (which is 
the truth and substance of it, that makes it solid,) to have 
a longitude and a latitude; accounting the latitude towards 
other sciences, and the longitude towards action ; that is, 
from the greatest generality to the most particular pre¬ 
cept. The one givetli rule how far one knowledge ought to 
intermeddle within the province of another, which is the 
rule they call K adavrd; the other giveth rule unto what 
degree of particularity a knowledge should descend: which 
latter I find passed over in silence, being in my judgment 
the more material; for certainly there must be somewhat 
left to practice; but how much is worthy the inquiry. 
We see remote and superficial generalities do but offer 
knowledge to scorn of practical men; and are no more 
aiding to practice, than an Ortelius’s universal map is to 
direct the way between London and York. The better 
sort of rules have been not unfitly compared to glasses of 
steel unpolished, where you may see the images of things, 
but first they must be filed : so the rules will help, if they 
be laboured and polished by practice. But how crystalline 
they may be made at the first, and how far forth they may 
be polished aforehand, is the question ; the inquiry whereof 
seemeth to me deficient. 

13. There hath been also laboured and put in practice 
a method, which is not a lawful method, but a method of 
imposture; which is, to deliver knowledges in such man¬ 
ner, as men may speedily come to make a show of learning 
who have it not: such was the travail of Baymundus 
Lullius, in making that art which bears his name : 6 not 
unlike to some books of typocosmy, which have been made 
since; being nothing but a mass of words of all arts, to 
give men countenance, that those which use the terms 
might be thought to understand the art; which collections 
are much like a fripper’s or broker’s shop, that hath ends 
of everything, but nothing of worth. 

XVIII. 1. Now we descend to that part 
Of Rhetoric, which concerneth the illustration of tradition, 
comprehended in that science which we call 
rhetoric , or art of eloquence ; a science excellent, and ex- 

0 Ars Lullictna. An account of this worthy and his doctrines 
may be found in the Biographie Universelle. He flourished in the 
thirteenth century. 



Office of Eloquence to aid Reason 133 

cellently well laboured. For though in true value it is 
inferior to wisdom, (as it is said by God to Moses, when 
he disabled himself for want of this faculty, Aaron shall 
he thy speaker, and thou shalt he to him as God:) 7 yet 
with people it is the more mighty: so Solomon saith, 
Sapiens corde appellahitur prudens, sed dulcis eloquio 
majora reperietf signifying, that profoundness of wisdom 
will help a man to a name or admiration, but that it is 
eloquence that prevaileth in an active life. And as to the 
labouring of it, the emulation of Aristotle with the rhetori¬ 
cians of his time, and the experience of Cicero, hath made 
them in their works of rhetorics exceed themselves. Again, 
the excellency of examples of eloquence in the orations of 
Demosthenes and Cicero, added to the perfection of the 
precepts of eloquence, hath doubled the progression in this 
art; and therefore the deficiences which I shall note will 
rather be in some collections, which may as hand-maids 
attend the art, than in the rules or use of the art itself. 

2. Notwithstanding, to stir the earth a little about the 
roots of this science, as we have done of the rest; the duty 
and office of rhetoric is, to apply reason to imagination 
for the better moving of the will. For we see reason is 
disturbed in the administration thereof by three means; 
by illaqueation or sophism, which pertains to logic; by 
imagination or impression, which pertains to rhetoric; and 
by passion or affection, which pertains to morality. And 
as in negotiation with others, men are wrought by cunning, 
by importunity, and by vehemency; so in this negotiation 
within ourselves, men are undermined by inconsequences, 
solicited and importuned by impressions or observations, 
and transported by passions. Neither is the nature of man 
so unfortunately built, as that those powers and arts 
should have force to disturb reason, and not to establish 
and advance it. For the end of logic is, to teach a form of 
argument to secure reason, and not to entrap it; the end 
of morality is to procure the affections to obey reason, and 
not to invade it; the end of rhetoric is, to fill the imagina¬ 
tion to second reason, and not to oppress it: for these 
abuses of art come in but ex ohliquo, for caution. 

3. And therefore it was great injustice in Plato, though 
springing out of a just hatred to the rhetoricians of his 
time, to esteem of rhetoric but as a voluptuary art, re¬ 
sembling it to cookery, that did mar wholesome meats, and 
help unwholesome by variety of sauces to the pleasure of 


7 Exod. vii. 1. 


8 Prov. xvi. 21. 



140 


by controlling Men's Affections, 

the taste . 9 For we see that speech is much more con¬ 
versant in adorning that which is good, than in colouring 
that which is evil; for there is no man but speaketh more 
honestly than he can do or think: and it was excellently 
noted by Thucydides in Cleon, that because he used to 
hold on the bad side in causes of estate, therefore he was 
ever inveighing against eloquence and good speech ; 1 know¬ 
ing that no man can speak fair of courses sordid and base. 
And therefore as Plato said elegantly, That virtue, if she 
could be seen , would move great love and affection f so 
seeing that she cannot be showed to the sense by corporal 
shape, the next degree is to show her to the imagination 
in lively representation: for to show her to reason only in 
subtilty of argument, was a thing ever derided in Cliry- 
, sippus and many of the Stoics ; 5 who thought to thrust 
virtue upon men by sharp disputations and conclusions, 
which have no sympathy with the will of man. 

4. Again, if the affections in themselves were pliant and 
obedient to reason, it were true, there should be no great 
use of persuasions and insinuations to the will, more than 
of naked proposition and proofs; but in regard of the con¬ 
tinual mutinies and seditions of the affections, 

Video meliora, proboque ; 

Deteriora sequor : 4 

reason would become captive and servile, if eloquence of 
persuasions did not practise and win the imagination from 
the affections part, and contract a confederacy between 
the reason and imagination against the affections; for the 
affections themselves carry ever an appetite to good, as 
reason doth. The difference is, that the affection beholdeth 
merely the present; reason beholdeth the future and sum 
of time. And therefore the present filling the imagination 
more, reason is commonly vanquished; but after that force 
of eloquence and persuasion hath made things future and 
remote appear as present, then upon the revolt of the 
imagination reason prevaileth. 


* & or ff- i 462. seq. 1 Thucyd. iii. 42. 

Plat. Phaedr. iii. 250. Quoted also by Cicero, de Off. i. 5, and 
de Fin. ii. 16. 

3 In the Latin edition be says, “ by Cicero,” alluding probably to 
such passages as the following: “ Stoici. . . contortulis quibusdam 
ac imnutis conclusiuncnlis, nec ad sensus permanantibus, effici 
volunt, non esse malum dolorem.” Tusc. Disp. ii. 18. 42. C f. Par ad 
Proa. 


4 Ovid. Metam. vii, 20. 




and directing popular Opinion. 141 

5. We conclude, therefore, that rhetoric can be no 
more charged with the colouring of the worse part, than 
logic with sophistry, or morality with vice. For we know 
the doctrines of contraries are the same, though the use 
be opposite. It appeareth also that logic differeth from 
rhetoric, not only as the fist from the palm, the one close, 
the other at large; but much more in this, that logic 
handleth reason exact and in truth, and rhetoric handleth 
it as it is planted in popular opinions and manners. And 
therefore Aristotle 5 doth wisely place rhetoric as between 
logic on the one side, and moral or civil knowledge on the 
other, as participating of both: for the proofs and demon- 
strations of logic are towards all men indifferent and the 
same; but the proofs and persuasions of rhetoric ought to 
differ according to the auditors: 

Orpheus in sylvis, inter delphinas Arion. 6 

Which application, in perfection of idea, ought to extend 
so far, that if a man should speak of the same thing to 
several persons, he should speak to them all respectively 
and several ways: though this politic part of eloquence in 
private speech it is easy for the greatest orators to want: 
whilst, by the observing their well-graced forms of speech, 
they leese the volubility of application: and therefore it 
shall not be amiss to recommend this to better inquiry, 
not being curious whether we place it here, or in that 
part which concerneth policy. 

6. Now therefore will I descend to the deficiences, 
which, as I said, are but attendances: and first, I do not 
find the wisdom and diligence of Aristotle well pursued, 
who began to make a collection of the popular signs and 
colours of good and evil, both simple and comparative, 
which are as the sophisms of rhetoric, as I touched before. 7 
For example: 

Sophisma. 

Quod laudatur, bonum : quod vituperatur, malum. 

Redargutio. 

Laudat venales qui vult extrudere merces. 8 

Malum est, malum est, inquit emjptor: sed cum recesserit f 
turn gloriabitur P The defects in the labour of Aristotle 
are three: one, that there be but a few of many; another. 


5 Yid. Aristot. Rhet. i. 2. 7. 6 Virg. Eel. viii. 56. 

7 Vid. Top. i. 15, 12, et al. 8 Hor. Ep. ii. 2. 11. 

9 Prov. xx. 14. 



142 


Of Antitheta and Formula. 

that tlieir clenches are not annexed; and the third, that 
lie conceived but a part of the use of them : for their use 
is not only in probation, but much more in impression. 
For many forms are equal in signification which are dif¬ 
fering in impression; as the difference is great in the 
piercing of that which is sharp and that which is flat, 
though the strength of the percussion be the same: for 
there is no man but will be a little more raised by hearing 
it said, Your enemies will be glad of this: 

Hoc Ithacus velit, et magno mercentur Atridae : l 

than by hearing it said only, This is evil for you. 

7. Secondly, I do resume also that which I mentioned 
before, touching provision or preparatory store, for the 
furniture of speech and readiness of invention, which 
appeareth to be of two sorts; the one in resemblance to 
a shop of pieces un-made up, the other to a shop of things 
ready made up; both to be applied to that which is 
frequent and most in request: the former of these I will 
call antitheta, and the latter formula. 

Antitheta are theses t argued pro et contra ; 2 wherein 
men may be more large and laborious: but, in such as are 
able to do it, to avoid prolixity of entry, I wish the seeds 
of the several arguments to be cast up into some brief and 
acute sentences, not to be cited, but to be as skains or 
bottoms of thread, to be unwinded at large when they 
come to be used; supplying authorities and examples by 
reference. 

Pro verbis lefts. 

Non est interpretatio, sed divinatio, quae recedit a litera: 

Cum receditur a litera, judex transit in legislatorem. 

Pro sententia let/is. 

Ex omnibus verbis est eliciendus sensus qui interpretatur singula. 

Formula are but decent and apt passages or con¬ 
veyances of speech, which may serve indifferently for 
differing subjects; as of preface, conclusion, digression , 
transition, excusation , Sfc. For as in buildings, there is 
great pleasure and use in the well casting of the stair¬ 
cases, entries, doors, windows, and the like; so in speech, 
the conveyances and passages are of special ornament and 
effect. 


1 Virg. 2En. ii. 104. 


Compare Cio. Orat. c. 50. 



Advice to Critics and Teachers. 


14S 


A conclusion in a deliberative. 

So may we redeem the faults passed, aud prevent the incon¬ 
veniences future. 3 

XIX. 1. There remain two appendices 
touching the tradition of knowledge, the one , £ 
critical, the other pedantical. For all know- thodsot^' 
ledge is either delivered by teachers, or at- transmitting 
tained by men’s proper endeavours: and Knowledge. 
therefore as the principal part of tradition of 
knowledge concerneth chiefly in writing of books, so the 
relative part thereof concerneth reading of books ; where- 
unto appertain incidently these considerations. The first 
is concerning the true correction and edition of authors; 
wherein nevertheless rash diligence hath done great 
prejudice. For these critics have often presumed, that 
that which they understand not is false set down: as the 
priest that, where he found it written of St. Paul, Demissus 
est per sportam 4 mended his book, and made it Demissus 
est per portam; because sporta was a hard word, and out 
of his reading: and surely their errors, though they be 
not so palpable and ridiculous, are yet of the same kind. 
And therefore, as it hath been w isely noted, the most cor¬ 
rected copies are commonly the least correct. 

The second is concerning the exposition and explica¬ 
tion of authors, which resteth in annotations and com¬ 
mentaries : wherein it is over usual to blanch the obscure 
places, and discourse upon the plain. 

The third is concerning the times, which in many 
cases give great light to true interpretations. 

The fourth is concerning some brief censure and judg¬ 
ment of the authors; that men thereby may make some 
election unto themselves what books to read. 

And the fifth is concerning the syntax and disposition 
of studies; that men may know in what order or pursuit 
to read. 

2. For pedantical knowledge, it containeth that differ¬ 
ence of tradition which is proper for youth; whereunto 
appertain divers considerations of great fruit. 

As first, the timing and seasoning of knowledges; as 


* In the Latin edition he inserts at this place a large number of 
examples of each of these topics ( colores boni et mail, antitheta 
rerum, and formula minores ) annexing to the first the elenches, or 
refutations. 


4 Acts ix. 25. 



144 Importance of judicious Teaching. 

with what to initiate them, and from what for a time to 
refrain them. 

Secondly, the consideration where to begin with the 
easiest, and so proceed to the. more difficult; and in what 
courses to press the more difficult, and then to turn them 
to the more easy: for it is one method to practise swimming 
with bladders, and another to practise dancing with heavy 
shoes. 

A third is the application of learning according unto- 
the propriety of the wits; for there is no defect in the 
faculties intellectual, but seemeth to have a proper cure 
contained in some studies: as, for example, if a child be 
bird-witted, that is, hath not the faculty of attention, the 
mathematics giveth a remedy thereunto; for in them, if 
the wit be caught away but a moment, one is to begin 
anew. And as sciences have a propriety towards faculties 
for cure and help, so faculties or powers have a sympathy 
towards sciences for excellency or speedy profiting: and 
therefore, it is an inquiry of great wisdom, what kinds 
of wits and natures are most apt and proper for what 
sciences. 

Fourthly, the ordering of exercises is matter of great 
consequence to hurt or help: for, as is well observed by 
Cicero, men in exercising their faculties, if they be not 
well advised, do exercise their faults and get ill habits as 
well as good; so there is a great judgment to be had in 
the continuance and intermission of exercises. It were too 
long to particularize a number of other considerations of 
this nature, things but of mean appearance, but of singular 
efficacy. For as the wronging or cherishing of seeds or 
young plants is that that is most important to their 
thriving: (and as it was noted that the first six kings, 
.being in truth as tutors of the state of Rome in the 
infancy thereof, was the principal cause of the immense 
greatness of that state which followed:) so the culture and 
manurance of minds in youth, hath such a forcible, though 
unseen operation, as hardly any length of time or conten¬ 
tion of labour can countervail it afterwards. And it is not 
amiss to observe also how small and mean faculties gotten 
by education, yet when they fall into great men or great 
matters, do work great and important effects; whereof we 
see a notable example in Tacitus 5 of two stage players, 
Percennius and Vibulenus, who by their faculty of playing 
put the Pannonian armies into an extreme tumult and 


‘ Tacit. Ann. i. 22, 23. 



Conclusion: apology for novel arrangement. 145 

combustion. For there arising a mutiny amongst them 
upon the death of Augustus Caesar, Blaesus the lieutenant 
had committed some of the mutineers, which were sud¬ 
denly rescued; whereupon Yibulenus got to be heard 
speak, which he did in this manner: —These poor innocent 
wretches appointed to cruel death, you have restored to 
behold the light; but who shall restore my brother to me, or 
life unto my brother, that was sent hither in message from 
the legions of Germany, to treat of the common cause ? and 
he hath murdered him this last night by some of his fencers 
and ruffians, that he hath about him for his executioners 
upon soldiers. Answer, Blcesus, what is done with his body? 
The mortalest enemies do not deny burial. When I have 
performed my last duty to the corpse with kisses, with tears, 
command me to be slain beside him ; so that these my felloios, 
for our good meaning, and our true hearts to the legions, 
may have leave to bury us. With which speech he put the 
army into an infinite fury and uproar: whereas truth was 
he had no brother, neither was there any such matter; 
but he played it merely as if he had been upon the stage. 

3. But to return: we are now come to a period of 
rational knowledges ; wherein if I have made the divisions 
other than those that are received, yet would I not be 
thought to disallow all those divisions which I do not use. 
For there is a double necessity imposed upon me of altering 
the divisions. The one, because it dinereth in end and 
purpose, to sort together those things which are next in 
nature, and those things which are next in use. For if a 
secretary of state should sort his papers, it is like in his 
study or general cabinet he would sort together things of 
a nature, as treaties, instructions, &c., but in his boxes or 
particular cabinet he would sort together those that he 
were like to use together, though of several natures; so 
in this general cabinet of knowledge it was necessary for 
me to follow the divisions of the nature of things; whereas 
if myself had been to handle any particular knowledge, I 
would have respected the divisions fittest for use. The 
other, because the bringing in of the deficiences did by 
consequence alter the partitions of the rest. For let the 
knowledge extant, for demonstration sake, be fifteenlet 
the knowledge with the deficiences be twenty; the parts 
of fifteen are not the parts of twenty; for the parts of 
fifteen are three and five; the parts of twenty are two, 
four, five, and ten. So as these things are without con¬ 
tradiction, and could not otherwise be. 

L 


146 


Vanity of Moralists has caused them 

XX. 1. TTTE proceed now to that know- 
Of Ethics in \ V ledge which considereth of 

general. the appetite and will of man : 6 whereof Solo¬ 
mon saith, Ante omnia, jili, custodi cor tuum; 
nam inde procedunt actiones vita. 7 In the handling of 
this science, those which have written seem to me to have 
done as if a man, that professed to teach to write, did only 
exhibit fair copies of alphabets and letters joined, without 
giving any precepts or directions for the carriage of the 
hand and framing of the letters. So have they made good 
and fair exemplars and copies, carrying the draughts and 
portraitures of good, virtue , duty, felicity; propounding 
them well described as the true objects and scopes of 
man’s will and desires. But how to attain these excellent 
marks, and how to frame and subdue the will of man to 
become true and conformable to these pursuits, they pass 
it over altogether, or slightly and unprofitably. For it is 
not the disputing that moral virtues are in the mind of 
man by habit and not by nature, or the distinguishing that 
generous spirits are won by doctrines and persuasions, 
and the vulgar sort by reward and punishment, and the 
like scattered glances and touches, that can excuse the 
absence of this part. 

2. The reason of this omission I suppose to be that 
hidden rock whereupon both this and many other barks of 
knowledge have been cast away; which is, that men have 
despised to be conversant in ordinary and common matters, 
the judicious direction whereof nevertheless is the wisest 
doctrine, (for life consisteth not in novelties or subtilties,) 
but contrariwise they have compounded sciences chiefly of a 
certain resplendent or lustrous mass of matter, chosen to 
give glory either to the subtilty of disputations, or to the 
eloquence of discourses. But Seneca giveth an excellent 
check to eloquence; Nocet illis eloquentia, quibus non 
rerum cupiditatemfacit, sed sui. Doctrine should be such 
as should make men in love with the lesson, and not with 
the teacher; being directed to the auditor’s benefit, and 
not to the author’s commendation. And therefore those 
are of the right kind which may be concluded as Demos¬ 
thenes concludes his counsel, Qua si feceritis, non oratorem 
duntaxat in prasentia laudabitis, sed vosmetipsos etiam non 
ita multopost statu rerum vestrarum meliore. 8 


6 In the Latin edition, this chapter commences the seventh book. 
With the opening paragraphs compare Aristotle, Eth. Nic passim. 

7 Prov. iv. 23. 8 Vide Demosth. Oljnth. B. adf n. 



to neglect the natural course of the inquiry. 147 

3. Neither needed men of so excellent parts to have 
despaired of a fortune, which the poet Virgil promised 
himself, and indeed obtained, who got as much glory of 
eloquence, wit, and learning in the expressing of the obser¬ 
vations of husbandry, as of the heroical acts of iEneas:— 

Nec sum animi dubius, verbis ea vincere magnum 
Quam sit, et augustis his addere rebus honorem. 9 

And surely, if the purpose be in good earnest, not to 
write at leisure that which men may read at leisure, but really 
to instruct and suborn action and active life, these Georgies 
of the mind, concerning the husbandry and tillage thereof, 
are no less worthy than the heroical descriptions of virtue, 
duty, and felicity. Wherefore the main and primitive 
division of moral knowledge seemeth to be into the exem¬ 
plar or platform of good, and the regiment or culture of 
the mind: the one describing the nature of good, the 
other prescribing rules how to subdue, apply, and accom¬ 
modate the will of man thereunto. 

4. The doctrine touching the platform or nature of 

f ood considereth it either simple or compared; either the 
inds of good, or the degrees of good; in the latter whereof 
those infinite disputations which were touching the supreme 
degree thereof, which they term felicity, beatitude, or the 
highest good, the doctrines concerning which were as the 
heathen divinity, are by the Christian faith discharged. 
And as Aristotle saith, That young men may he happy, hut 
not otherwise hut hy hope f so we must all acknowledge 
our minority, and embrace the felicity which is by hope of 
the future world. 

5. Freed therefore and delivered from this doctrine of 
the philosopher’s heaven, whereby they feigned a higher 
elevation of man’s nature than was, (for we see in what a 
height of stile Seneca writeth, Vere magnum, habere fra - 
gilitatem hominis, securitatem Dei,) we may with more 
sobriety and truth receive the rest of their inquiries and 
labours. Wherein for the nature of good positive or simple, 
they have set it down excellently, in describing the forms 
of virtue and duty, with their situations and postures ; in 
distributing them into their kinds, parts, provinces, actions, 
and administrations, and the like : nay farther, they have 
commended them to man’s nature and spirit, with great 
quickness of argument and beauty of persuasions ; yea, 
and fortified and entrenched them, as much as discourse 
can do, against corrupt and popular opinions. Again, for 


l 2 


Georg, iii. 289. 


1 Rliet. ii. 12. 8. 



] 48 Good, particular and relative; hence 

the degrees and comparative nature of good, they have 
also excellently handled it in their triplicity of good, in the 
comparison between a contemplative and an active life, 2 in 
the distinction between virtue with reluctation and virtue 
secured, in their encounters between honesty and profit, 
in their balancing of virtue with virtue, and the like; 
so as this part deserveth to be reported for excellently 
laboured. 

6. Notwithstanding, if before they had come to the 
popular and received notions of virtue and vice, pleasure 
and pain, and the rest, they had stayed a little longer 
upon the inquiry concerning the roots of good and evil, 
and the strings of those roots, they had given, in my 
opinion, a great light to that which followed; and espe¬ 
cially if they had consulted with nature, they had made 
their doctrines less prolix and more profound: which 
being by them in part omitted and in part handled with 
much confusion, we will endeavour to resume and open in 
a more clear manner. 

7. There is formed in every thing a double nature of 
good: the one, as every thyig is a total or substantive in 
itself; the other, as it is a part or member of a greater 
body; whereof the latter is in degree the greater and 
the worthier, because it tendeth to the conservation of a 
more general form. Therefore we see the iron in particular 
sympathy moveth to the loadstone ; but yet if it exceed a 
certain quantity, it forsaketh the affection to the loadstone, 
and like a good patriot moveth to the earth, which is the 
region and country of massy bodies: so may we go for¬ 
ward, and see that water and massy bodies move to the 
centre of the earth ; but rather than to suffer a divulsion 
in the continuance of nature, they will move upwards from 
the centre of the earth, forsaking their duty to the earth 
in regard to their duty to the world. This double nature 
of good, and the comparative thereof, is much more en¬ 
graven upon man, if he degenerate not: unto whom the 
conservation of duty to the public ought to be much more 
precious than the conservation of life and being: according 
to that memorable speech of Pompeius Magnus, when 
being in commission of purveyance for a famine at Borne, 
and being dissuaded with great vehemency and instance 
by his friends about him, that he should not hazard him¬ 
self to sea in an extremity of weather, he said only to 
them, Necesse est ut earn , non ut vivam . 3 But it may be 


8 Vide Aristot. Et/i. Nic. i. 3. seq. 


3 Plut. in vit. Pomp. 



Aristotle wrong in preferring Contemplation to Action . 149 

truly affirmed that there was never any philosophy, reli¬ 
gion, or other discipline, which did so plainly and highly 
exalt the good which is communicative, and depress the 
good which is private and particular, as the Holy Faith; 
well declaring that it was the same G-od that gave the 
Christian law to men, who gave those laws of nature to 
inanimate creatures that we spoke of before; for we read 
that the elected saints of God have wished themselves 
anathematized and razed out of the book of life, in an 
ecstasy of charity and infinite feeling of communion. 

8. This being set down and strongly planted, doth 
judge and determine most of the controversies wherein 
moral philosophy is conversant. For first, it decideth the 
question touching the preferment of the contemplative or 
active life, and decideth it against Aristotle. For all the 
reasons which he bringeth for the contemplative are 
private, and respecting the pleasure and dignity of a man’s 
self, (in which respects, no question, the contemplative life 
hath the pre-eminence) not much unlike to that com¬ 
parison, which Pythagoras made for the gracing and 
magnifying of philosophy and contemplation: who being 
asked what he was, answered, That if Hiero were ever at 
the Olympian games, he knew the manner, that some came 
to try their fortune for the prizes, and some came as mer¬ 
chants to utter their commodities, and some came to make 
good cheer and meet their friends, and some came to look 
on; and that he was one of them that came to look on. 
But men must know, that in this theatre of man’s life it is 
reserved only for God and angels to be lookers on: neither 
could the like question ever have been received in the 
church (notwithstanding their Pretiosa in oculis Domini 
mors sanctorum ejus , 4 by which place they would exalt 
their civil death and regular professions,) but upon 
this defence, that the monastical life is not simply con¬ 
templative, but performeth the duty either of incessant 
prayers and supplications, which hath been truly esteemed 
as an office in the church, or else of writing or in taking 
instructions for writing concerning the law of God, as 
Moses did when he abode so long in the mount. And so 
we see Enoch the seventh from Adam, who was the first 
contemplative, and walked with God, yet did also endow 
the church with prophecy, which St. Jude citeth. 5 But 
for contemplation which should be finished in itself, 


4 Ps. cxvi. 15. 


5 Ep. Jude. v. 14. 



150 


Other Errors of the ancient Schools 

without casting beams upon society, assuredly divinity 
knoweth it not. 

9. It decideth also the controversies between Zeno and 
Socrates, and their schools and successions, on the one 
side, who placed felicity in virtue simply or attended, the 
actions and exercises whereof do chiefly embrace and 
concern society; and on the other side, the Cyrenaics and 
Epicureans, 6 who placed it in pleasure, and made virtue, (as 
it is used in some comedies of errors, wherein the mistress 
and the maid change habits,) to be but as a servant, with¬ 
out which pleasure cannot be served and attended, and the 
reformed school of the Epicureans, which placed it in 
serenity of mind and freedom from perturbation, (as if they 
would have deposed Jupiter again, and restored Saturn 
and the first age, when there was no summer nor winter, 
spring nor autumn, but all after one air and season,) and 
Herillus, who placed felicity in extinguishment of the dis¬ 
putes of the mind, making no fixed nature of good and 
evil, esteeming things according to the clearness of the 
desires, or the reluctation; which opinion was revived in 
the heresy of the Anabaptists, measuring things according 
to the motions of the spirit, and the constancy or wavering 
of belief: all which are manifest to tend to private repose 
and contentment, and not to point of society. 

10. It censureth also the philosophy of Epictetus, which 
presupposeth that felicity must be placed in those things 
which are in our power, lest we be liable to fortune and 
disturbance : as if it were not a thing much more happy to 
fail in good and virtuous ends for the public, than to obtain 
all that we can wish to ourselves in our proper fortune; as 
Gonsalvo said to his soldiers, showing them Naples, and 
protesting, He had rather die one foot forwards, than to 
have his life secured for long by onefoot of retreat. Where- 
unto the wisdom of that heavenly leader hath signed, who 
hath affirmed that a good conscience is a continual feast f 
showing plainly that the conscience of good intentions, 
howsoever succeeding, is a more continual joy to nature, 
than all the provision which can be made for security and 
repose. 


6 For an account of the sects alluded to in this place, see Ritter 
and Preller’s History of Philosophy , in which very useful hook will 
be found an excellent collection of passages, drawn from ancient 
authorities, and, as far as possible, from the writings of philosophers 
of the different schools. The English reader may refer to Smith’s 
Dictionary of Biography and Mythology. 1 Prov. xv. 15. 



151 


discovered by the same Standard. 

11. It censuretli likewise that abuse of philosophy, which 
grew general about the time of Epictetus, in converting it 
into an occupation or profession; as if the purpose had 
been, not to resist and extinguish perturbations, but to fly 
and avoid the causes of them, and to shape a particular 
kind and course of life to that end; introducing such a 
health of mind, as was that health of body of which Aris¬ 
totle speaketh of Herodicus, who did nothing all his life 
long but intend his health : 8 9 whereas if men refer them¬ 
selves to duties of society, as that health of body is best, 
which is ablest to endure all alterations and extremities; 
so likewise that health of mind is most proper, which can 

§ o through the greatest temptations and perturbations. 

o as Diogenes’s opinion is to be accepted, who commended 
not them which abstained, but them which sustained, and 
could refrain their mind in prcecipiiio, and could give unto 
the mind, as is used in horsemanship, the shortest stop or 
turn. 

12. Lastly, it censuretli the tenderness and want of 
application in some of the most ancient and reverend 
philosophers and philosophical men, that did retire too 
easily from civil business, for avoiding of indignities and 
perturbations : whereas the resolution of men truly moral 
ought to be such as the same Gonsalvo said the honour of 
a soldier should be e tela crassiore, and not so fine as that 
every thing should catch in it and endanger it. 

XXI. 1. To resume private or particular 
good,' it falleth into the division of good , P L tv *f. e 

active and passive: for this difference of a Q ood ubilC 
good, not unlike to that which amongst 
the Homans was expressed in the familiar or household 
terms of promus and condus? is formed also in all things, 
and is best disclosed in the two several appetites in crea¬ 
tures ; the one to preserve or continue themselves, and the 
other to dilate or multiply themselves; whereof the latter 
seemeth to be the worthier: for in nature the heavens, 
which are the more worthy, are the agent; and the earth, 
which is the less worthy, is the patient. In the pleasures 
of living creatures, that of generation is greater than that 
of food; in divine doctrine, beatius est dare quant accipere, 1 
and in life, there is no man’s spirit so soft, but esteemeth 
the effecting of somewhat that he hath fixed in his desire, 


8 Aiistot. Rhei. i. 5. 10. 

9 Condus, promus, procurator peni. Plaut. Pseud, ii. 2. 14. 
1 Acts xx. 35. 



152 Of Private Good, Active and Passive; 

more than sensuality; which priority of the active good, is 
much upheld by the consideration of our estate to be mortal 
and exposed to fortune. For if we might have a perpetuity 
and certainty in our pleasures, the state of them would 
advance their price: but when we see it is but magni 
cestimamus mori tardius, and ne glorieris de crastino , nescis 
partum diei , 2 it maketh us to desire to have somewhat 
secured and exempted from time, which are only our deeds 
and works : as it is said opera eorurn sequuntur eos. 3 The 
preeminence likewise of this active good is upheld by the 
affection which is natural in man towards variety and 
proceeding; which in the pleasures of the sense, which is 
the principal part of passive good, can have no great 
latitude: Cogita quamdiu eadem feceris; cibus, somnus, 
Indus per hunc circulum curritur; mori velle non tantum 
fortis, ant miser , ant prudens, sed etiam fastidiosus potest. 
But in enterprises, pursuits, and purposes of life, there is 
much variety; whereof men are sensible with pleasure in 
their inceptions, progressions, recoils, reintegrations, ap¬ 
proaches and attainings to their ends: so as it was well 
said Vita sineproposito languida etvaga est. Neither hath 
this active good an identity with the good of society, though 
in some case it hath an incidence into it; for although it do 
many times bring forth acts of beneficence, yet it is with a 
respect private to a man’s own power, glory, amplification, 
continuance; as appeareth plainly, when it findeth a con¬ 
trary subject. For that gigantine 4 state of mind which 
possesseth the troublers of the world such as was Lucius 
Sylla, and infinite other in smaller model, who would have 
all men happy or unhappy as they were their friends or 
enemies, and would give form to the world, according to 
their own humours, (which is the true theomachy,) pre- 
tendeth and aspireth to active good, though it recedeth 
farthest from good of society, which we have determined 
to be the greater. 

2. To resume passive good, it receiveth a subdivision of 
conservative and perfective. For let us take a brief 
review of that which we have said: we have spoken first 


2 Prov. xxvii. 1. 3 R e vel. xiv. 13. . 

4 So Barrow Serm. iii. On Universal Redemption. “ There are 
some persons of that wicked and gigantick disposition, contracted 
by evil practice, that, should one offer to instruct them in truth, or 
move them to piety, would be ready to say with Polyphemus— 
'Sgiriog tig Hi) £e?j/ r) rrjXoQev iiXrjXovOag, 
og Otovg KtXsai fj dudipev, t\ aXeaoQai. — Odyss. i. 273, 4. 



Tendency of the latter to preserve and perfect. 153 

of the good of society, the intention whereof embraceth the 
form of human nature, whereof we are members and por¬ 
tions, and not our own proper and individual form: we 
have spoken of active good, and supposed it as a part of 
private and particular good: and rightly, for there is im¬ 
pressed upon all things a triple desire or appetite proceed¬ 
ing from love to themselves; one of preserving and con¬ 
tinuing their form; another of advancing and perfecting 
their form; and a third of multiplying and extending their 
form upon other things : whereof the multiplying, or sig¬ 
nature of it upon other things, is that which we handled 
by the name of active good. So as there remaineth the 
conserving of it, and perfecting or raising of it; which 
latter is the highest degree of passive good. For to pre¬ 
serve in state is the less, to preserve with advancement is 
the greater. So in man,— 

Igneus est ollis vigor, et cselestis origo. 5 

His approach or assumption to divine or angelical nature 
is the perfection of his form; the error or false imitation 
of which good is that which is the tempest of human life ; 
while man, upon the instinct of an advancement formal 
and essential, is carried to seek an advancement local. For 
as those which are sick, and find no remedy, do tumble up 
and down and change place, as if by a remove local they 
could obtain a remove internal; so is it with men in ambi¬ 
tion, when failing of the means to exalt their nature, they 
are in a perpetual estuation to exalt their place. So then 
passive good is, as was said, either conservative or per¬ 
fective. 

3. To resume the good of conservation or comfort, 
which consisteth in the fruition of that which is agreeable 
to our natures ; it seemeth to be the most pure and na¬ 
tural of pleasures, but yet the softest and the lowest. 
And this also receiveth a difference, which hath neither 
been well judged of, nor well inquired: for the good of 
fruition or contentment is placed either in the sincereness 
of the fruition, or in the quickness and vigour of it; the 
one superinduced by equality, the other by vicissitude; 
the one having less mixture of evil, the other more im¬ 
pression of good. Which of these is the greater good is 
a question controverted; but whether man’s nature may 
not be capable of both, is a question not inquired. 

4. The former question being debated between Socrates 


5 JSn. vi. 730. 



154 


Solution of tioo Questions regarding it. 

and a sophist, Socrates placing felicity in an equal and 
constant peace of mind, and the sophist in much desiring 
and much enjoying, they fell from argument to ill words : 
the sophist saying that Socrates’ felicity was the felicity 
of a block or stone ; and Socrates saying that the sophist’s 
felicity was the felicity of one that had the itch, who did 
nothing but itch and scratch. 6 And both these opinions 
do not want their supports. For the opinion of Socrates is 
much upheld by the general consent even of the Epicures 
themselves, that virtue beareth a great part in felicity; and 
if so, certain it is, that virtue hath more use in clearing 
perturbations than in compassing desires. The sophist’s 
opinion is much favoured by the assertion we last spoke 
of, that good of advancement is greater than good of simple 
preservation; because every obtaining a desire hath a show 
of advancement, as motion though in a circle hath a show 
of progression. 

5. But the second question, decided the true wav, 
inaketh the former superfluous. For can it be doubted, 
but that there are some who take more pleasure in enjoy¬ 
ing pleasures than some other, and yet, nevertheless, are 
less troubled with the loss or leaving of them P so as this 
same, Non uti ut non appetas, non appetere ut non metuas , 
sunt animi pusilli et diffidentis. And it seemeth to me, 
that most of the doctrines of the philosophers are mote 
fearful and cautionary than the nature of things requireth. 
So have they increased the fear of death in offering to cure 
it. For when they would have a man’s whole life to be but 
a discipline or preparation to die, they must needs make 
men think that it is a terrible enemy, against whom there 
is no end of preparing. Better saith the poet: 

Qui spatium vitae extremum inter munera ponat 

Naturae. 7 

So have they sought to make men’s minds too uniform 
and harmonical, by not breaking them sufficiently to con¬ 
trary motions : the reason whereof I suppose to be, because 
they themselves were men dedicated to a private, free, and 
unapplied course of life. For as we see, upon the lute or 
like instrument, a ground, though it be sweet and have 
show of many changes, yet breaketh not the hand to such 
strange and hard stops and passages, as a set song or , 
voluntary; much after the same manner was the diversity 
between a philosophical and a civil life. And therefore 


• Vid. Plat. Gorg. i. 492, 494. 


7 Juv. Sat. x. 358. 



155 


Good, as it concerns Society. 

men are to imitate tlie wisdom of jewellers ; who, if there 
be a grain, or a cloud, or an ice which may be ground 
forth without taking too much of the stone, they help it; 
but if it should lessen and abate the stone too much, they 
will not meddle with it: so ought men so to procure 
serenity as they destroy not magnanimity. 

6. Haying therefore deduced the good of man which 
is private and particular, as far as seemeth fit; we will 
now return to that good of man which respecteth and 
beholdeth society, which we may term duty; because the 
term of duty is more proper to a mind well framed and 
disposed towards others, as the term of virtue is applied 
to a mind well formed and composed in itself: though 
neither can a man understand virtue without some relation 
to society, nor duty without an inward disposition. This 
part may seem at first to pertain to science, civil and 
politic : but not if it be well observed; for it concerneth 
the regiment and government of every man over himself, 
and not over others. And as in architecture the direction 
of framing the posts, beams, and other parts of building, 
is not the same with the manner of joining them and 
erecting the building; and in mechanicals, the direction 
how to frame an instrument or engine, is not the same 
with the manner of setting it on work and employing it, 
(and yet nevertheless in expressing of the one you inci¬ 
dentally express the aptness towards the other;) so the 
doctrine of conjugation of men in society differeth from 
that of their conformity thereunto. 

7. This.part of duty is subdivided into two parts : the 
common duty of every man, as a man or member of a 
state; the other, the respective or special duty of every 
man, in his profession, vocation, and place. The first of 
these is extant and well laboured, as hath been said. The 
second likewise I may report rather dispersed than defi¬ 
cient ; which manner of dispersed writing in this kind of 
argument I acknowledge to be best. For who can take 
upon him to write of the proper duty, virtue, challenge, 
and right of every several vocation, profession, and place ? 
For although sometimes a looker on may see more than a 
gamester, and there be a proverb more arrogant than 
sound, that the vale best discovereth the hill; yet there is 
small doubt but that men can write best, and most really 
and materially, in their own professions; and that the 
writing of speculative men of active matter, for the most 
part, doth seem to men of experience, as Phormio’s argu¬ 
ment of the wars seemed to Hannibal, to be but dreams 


156 Digression on the incredible vjisdom of James I. 

and dotage. 8 Only there is one vice which accompanieth 
them that write in their own professions, that they magnify 
them in excess. But generally it were to be wished, as that 
which would make learning indeed solid and fruitful, that 
active men would or could become writers. 

8. In which kind I cannot but mention, hanoris causa, 
your majesty’s excellent book touching the duty of a king : 
a work richly compounded of divinity, morality, and 
policy, with great aspersion of all other arts; and being, 
in mine opinion, one of the most sound and healthful 
writings that I have read; not distempered in the heat of 
invention, nor in the coldness of negligence j not sick of 
business, as those are who lose themselves in their order, 
nor of convulsions, as those which cramp in matters im¬ 
pertinent; not savouring of perfumes and paintings, as 
those do who seek to please the reader more than nature 
beareth; and chiefly well disposed in the spirits thereof, 
being agreeable to truth and apt for action; and far removed 
from that natural infirmity, whereunto I noted those that 
write in their own professions to be subject, which is, that 
they exalt it above measure : for your majesty hath truly 
described, not a king of Assyria or Persia in their extern 
glory, but a Moses or a David, pastors of their people. 
Neither can I ever leese out of my remembrance, what I 
heard your majesty, in the same sacred spirit of Govern¬ 
ment, deliver in a great cause of judicature, which was. 
That kings ruled by their laws, as God did by the laws of 
nature ; and ought as rarely to put in use their supreme 
prerogative, as God doth his power of working miracles. 
And yet notwithstanding, in your book of a free monarchy, 
you do well give men to understand, that you know the 
plenitude of the power and right of a king, as well as the 
circle of his office and duty. Thus have I presumed to 
allege this excellent writing of-your majesty, as a prime 
or eminent example of Tractates concerning special and 
respective duties : wherein I should have said as much, if 
it had been written a thousand years since : neither am I 
moved with certain courtly decencies, which esteem it 
flattery to praise in presence: no, it is flattery to praise 
in absence; that is, when either the virtue is absent, or 
the occasion is absent; and so the praise is not natural, 
but forced, either in truth or in time. But let Cicero be 
read in his oration pro Marcello, which is nothing but an 
excellent table of Csesar’s virtue, and made to his face; 


8 Cic. de Orat. ii. 18. 75. 



157 


Duty of each man in his proper calling. 

besides tbe example of many other excellent persons, wiser 
a great deal than such observers; and we will never doubt, 
upon a full occasion, to give just praises to present or 
absent. 

9. But to return: there belongeth further to the hand¬ 
ling of this part, touching the duties of professions and 
vocations, a relative or opposite, touching the frauds, 
cautels, impostures, and vices of every profession, which 
hath been likewise handled: but how? rather in a satire 
and cynically, than seriously and wisely: for men have 
rather sought by wit to deride and traduce much of that 
which is good in professions, than with judgment to dis¬ 
cover and sever that which is corrupt. For, as Solomon 
saith, he that cometh to seek after knowledge with a mind 
to scorn and censure, shall be sure to find matter for his 
humour, but no matter for his instruction: Queerenti deri - 
sori scientiam ipsa se ahscondit; sed studioso fit obviam. 9 
But the managing of this argument with integrity and 
truth, which I note as deficient, seemeth to me to be one 
of the best fortifications for honesty and virtue that can be 
planted. For, as the fable goeth of the basilisk, that if he 
see you first, you die for it; but if you see him first, he 
dieth: so it is with deceits and evil arts; which, if they 
be first espied they leese their life; but if they prevent, 
they endanger. So that we are much beholden to Machi- 
avel and others, that write what men do, and not what 
they ought to do. For it is not ppssible to join serpentine 
wisdom with columbine innocency, except men know exactly 
all the conditions of the serpent; his baseness and going 
upon his belly, his volubility and lubricity, his envy and 
sting, and the rest; that is, all forms and natures of evil: 
for without this, virtue lieth open and unfenced. Nay, an 
honest man can do no good upon those that are wicked, to 
reclaim them, without the help of the knowledge of evil. 
For men of corrupted minds presuppose that honesty 
groweth out of simplicity of manners, and believing of 
preachers, schoolmasters, and men’s exterior language: 
so as, except you can make them perceive that you know 
the utmost reaches of their own corrupt opinions, they 
despise all morality; Non recipit stultus verbaprudentice, 
nisi ea dixeris quae versantur in corde ejus. 1 

10. Unto this part, touching respective duty, doth also 
appertain the duties between husband and wife, parent and 
child, master and servant: so likewise the laws of friend- 


9 Prov. xiv. 6. 


1 Prov. xviii. 2. 



158 


Rule in Cases of conflicting Duties. 

skip and gratitude, the civil bond of companies, colleges, 
and politic bodies, of neighbourhood, and all other propor¬ 
tionate duties; not as they are parts of government and 
society, but as to the framing of the mind of particular 
persons. 

11. The knowledge concerning good respecting society 
doth handle it also, not simply alone, but comparatively; 
whereunto belongeth the weighing of duties between 
person and person, case and case, particular and public: 
as we see in the proceeding of Lucius Brutus against his 
own sons, which was so much extolled; yet what was 
said ? 

Infelix, utcunque ferent ea fata minores. 2 

So the case was doubtful, and had opinion on both sides. 
Again, we see when M. Brutus and Cassius invited to a 
supper certain whose opinions they meant to feel, whether 
they were fit to be made their associates, and cast forth 
the" question touching the killing of a tyrant being a 
usurper, they were divided in opinion ; 3 some holding that 
servitude was the extreme of evils, and others that tyranny 
was better than a civil war: and a number of the like cases 
there are of comparative duty; amongst which that of all 
others is the most frequent, where the question is of a great 
deal of good to ensue of a small injustice. Which Jason of 
Thessalia determined against the truth: Aliqua sunt in - 
juste facienda, ut multa juste fieri possint. 4 But the reply 
is good ,Auctorem prcesentisjustitioe habes , sponsoremfutures 
non liabes. Men must pursue things which are just in 
present, and leave the future to the divine Providence. 
So then we pass on from this general part touching the 
exemplar and description of good. 

XXII. 1. Now therefore that we have 
uj Moral g p 0 k en 0 f this fruit of life, it remaineth to 
u ure ‘ speak of the husbandry that belongeth there¬ 
unto; without which part the former seemeth to be no 
better than a fair image, or statua, which is beautiful to 
contemplate, but is without life and motion; whereunto 
Aristotle himself subscribetk in these words : Necesse est 
scilicet de virtute dicere, et quid sit, et ex quibus gignatur. 
Inutile enimfere fuerit virtutem quidem nosse, acquirendce 
autem ejus niodos et vias ignorare: non enim de virtute 

8 Yirg. Mn. vi. 823. 

3 See the discussion between Brutus, Favonius, and others, 
described by Plutarch, Life of Brutus. 

4 Plut. Praec. Ger. Reip. 24. 






159 


Excellence of Moral Philosophy. 

tantum, qua specie sit, qucerendum est, sed et quomodo sui 
copiamfaciat: utrumque enim volumus, et rem ipsam nosse, 
et ej us compotes fieri: hoc autem ex voto non succedet, nisi 
sciamus et ex quihus et quomodo . 5 In such full words and 
with such iteration doth he inculcate this part. So saith 
Cicero in great commendation of Cato the second, that he 
had applied himself to philosophy, Non ita disputandi 
causa , sed ita vivendi . 6 And although the neglect of our 
times, wherein few men do hold any consultations touching 
the reformation of their life, (as Seneca excellently saith) 
De partibus vitae quisque deliberat, de summd nemo, may 
make this part seem superfluous; yet I must conclude with 
that aphorism of Hippocrates, Qui gravi morbo correpti 
dolores non sentiunt, Us mens aegrotat they need medicine, 
not only to assuage the disease, but to awake the sense. 
And if it be said, that the cure of men’s minds belongeth 
to sacred divinity, it is most true: but yet moral philo¬ 
sophy may be preferred unto her as a wise servant and 
humble handmaid. For as the Psalm saith, that the eyes 
of the handmaid look perpetually towards the mistress, 3 and 
yet no doubt many things are left to the discretion of the 
handmaid, to discern of the mistress’s will; so ought 
moral philosophy to give a constant attention to the doc¬ 
trines of divinity, and yet so as it may yield of herself, 
within due limits, many sound and profitable directions. 

2. This part therefore, because of the excellency thereof, 
I cannot but find exceeding strange that it is not reduced 
to written inquiry: the rather, because it consisteth of 
much matter, wherein both speech and action is often con¬ 
versant; and such wherein the common talk of men, (which 
is rare, but yet cometh sometimes to pass,) is wiser than 
their books. It is reasonable therefore that we propound 
it in the more particularity, both for the worthiness, and 
because we may acquit ourselves for reporting it deficient; 
which seemeth almost incredible, and is otherwise con¬ 
ceived and presupposed by those themselves that have 
written. We will therefore enumerate some heads or 
points thereof, that it may appear the better what it is, 
and whether it be extant. 

3. First, therefore, in this, as in all things which are 
practical, we ought to cast up our account, what is in our 
power, and what not; for the one may be dealt with by 
way of alteration, but the other by way of application 


5 Etli. Mag. A. ad init. 
7 Hippoc. Aph. ii. 6. 


6 Cic. p. Mur. xxx. 62. 
8 Ps. cxxiii. 2. 




160 


Men’s different Tempers should be 

only. The husbandman cannot command, neither the 
nature of the earth, nor the seasons of the weather; no 
more can the physician the constitution of the patient, nor 
the variety of accidents. So in the culture and cure ’of the 
mind of man, two things are without our command; points 
of nature, and points of fortune. For to the basis of the 
one, and the conditions of the other, our work is limited 
and tied. In these things therefore, it is left unto us to 
proceed by application. 

Vincenda est omnis fortuna ferendo : 9 
and so likewise, 

Vincenda est omnis Natura ferendo. 

Eut when that we speak of suffering, we do not speak of 
a dull and neglected suffering, but of a wise and indus¬ 
trious suffering, which draweth and contriveth use and 
advantage out of that which seemeth adverse and contrary; 
which is that property which we call accommodating or 
applying. Now the wisdom of application resteth princi¬ 
pally in the exact and distinct knowledge of the precedent 
state or disposition, unto which we do apply: for we 
cannot fit a garment, except we first take measure of the 
body. 

4. So then the first article of this knowledge is, to set 
down sound and true distributions and descriptions of the 
several oharacters and tempers of men’s natures and dis¬ 
positions ; especially haying regard to those differences 
which are most radical in being the fountains and causes 
of the rest, or most frequent in concurrence or commix¬ 
ture ; wherein it is not the handling of a few of them in 
passage, the better to describe the mediocrities of virtues, 
that can satisfy this intention. For if it deserve to be 
considered, that there are minds which are proportioned 
to great matters, and others to small, 1 (which Aristotle 
handleth, or ought to have handled, by the name of mag¬ 
nanimity;) doth it not deserve as well to be considered, 
that there are minds proportioned to intend many matters, 
and others to few? So that some can divide themselves : 
others can perchance do exactly well, but it must be but 
in few things at once : and so there cometh to be a narrow¬ 
ness of mind, as well as a pusillanimity. And again, that 
some minds are proportioned to that which may be dis¬ 
patched at once, or within a short return of time; others to 


9 Virg. 2En. v. 710. 

1 See Aristot. Eth. Nic. iv. 7, and cf. Polit. i. 4. seq. 



studied and accurately distinguished, 161 

that which begins afar off, and is to be won with length 
of pursuit: 

Jam turn tenditque fovetque. 2 

So that there may be fitly said to be a longanimity, which 
is commonly also ascribed to God as a magnanimity. So 
further deserved it to be considered by Aristotle ; 3 that 
there is a disposition in conversation , (supposing it in 
things which do in no sort touch or concern a man s self,) to 
soothe and please ; and a disposition contrary to contradict 
and cross: and deserveth it not much better to be con¬ 
sidered, that there is a disposition, not in conversation or 
talk, but in matter of more serious nature, {and supposing 
it still in things merely indifferent ,) to take pleasure in the 
good of another: and a disposition contrariwise, to take 
distaste at the good of another ? which is that properly 
which we call good nature or ill nature, benignity or 
malignity : and therefore I cannot sufficiently marvel that 
this part of knowledge, touching the several characters of 
natures and dispositions, should be omitted both in morality 
and policy; considering it is of so great ministry and sup- 
peditation to them both. A man shall find in the tradi¬ 
tions of astrology some pretty and apt divisions of men’s 
natures, according to the predominances of the planets; 
lovers of quiet, lovers of action, lovers of victory, lovers of 
honour, lo vers of pleasure, lovers of arts, lovers of change, 
and so forth. A man shall find in the wisest sort of these 
relations which the Italians make touching conclaves, 
the natures of the several cardinals handsomely and 
lively painted forth: a man shall meet with in every day’s 
conference, the denominations of sensitive, dry, formal, 
real, humorous, certain, huomo di prima impressione, 
huomo di ultima impressione, and the like : and yet never¬ 
theless this kind of observation wandereth in words, but is 
not fixed in inquiry. For the distinctions are found, many 
of them, but we conclude no precepts upon them: wherein 
our fault is the greater; because both history, poesy, and 
daily experience are as goodly fields where these observa¬ 
tions grow; whereof we make a few posies to hold in 
our hands, but no man bringeth them to the confec¬ 
tionary, that receipts might be made of them for use of 
fife. 

5. Of much like kind are those impressions of nature, 
which are imposed upon the mind by the sex, by the age. 


* Virg. 2En. i. 22. 3 Eth. Nic. iv. 12. 

. M 



162 together with their Impressions and Affections. 

by the region, by health and sickness, by beauty and 
deformity, and the like, which are inherent and not 
externe; and again, those which are caused by extern, 
fortune; as sovereignty, nobility, obscure birth, riches, 
want, magistracy, privateness, prosperity, adversity, con¬ 
stant fortune, variable fortune, rising per saltum, per 
gradus, and the like. And therefore we see that Plautus 
maketh it a wonder to see an old man beneficent, benig- 
nitas hujus ut adolescentuli est.* St. Paul concludeth, that 
severity of discipline was to be used to the Cretans, 
increpa eos dure, upon the disposition of their country, 
Cretenses semper mendaces, malae bestice, ventres pigri . 4 5 
Sallust noteth, that it is usual with kings to desire contra¬ 
dictories : Sed plerumque regice voluntates, ut vehementes 
sunt, sic mobiles, scepeque ipsce sibi adversce . 6 * Tacitus 
observeth how rarely raising of the fortune mendeth the 
disposition: solus Vespasianus mutatus in melius? Pindarus 
maketh an observation, that great and sudden fortune for 
the most part defeateth men qui magnarn felicitatem 
concoquere non possunt. 8 9 So the psalm showeth it is more 
easy to keep a measure in the enjoying of fortune, than in 
the increase of fortune: divitia si affluant, nolite cor 
appenere? These observations, and the like, I deny not 
but are touched a little by Aristotle, as in passage in his 
Rhetorics, and are handled in some scattered discourses : 
but they were never incorporated into moral philosophy, 
to which they do essentially appertain; as the knowledge 
of the diversity of grounds and moulds doth to agriculture, 
and the knowledge of the diversity of complexions and 
constitutions doth to the physician; except we mean to 
follow the indiscretion of empirics, which minister the 
same medicines to all patients. 

6. Another article of this knowledge is the inquiry 
touching the affections; for as in medicining of the body, 
it is in order first to know the divers complexions and 
constitutions; secondly, the diseases; and lastly, the cures : 
so in medicining of the mind, after knowledge of the 
divers characters of men’s natures, it folioweth, in order, 
to know the diseases and infirmities of the mind, which 

4 Plaut. Mil. Glor. iii. 1. 39. s Xit i 12 

e Bell Jug. 113. 

7 Ambigua de Vespasiano fama; solusque omnium ante se prin- 

cipum in melius mutatus est. Hist. i. 50. 

8 KaraTrsif/ai psyau oXfiov ovk kSwaaOrj. Olym. i. 55 

9 Ps. lxii. 10. 




This inquiry best handled by Poets and Historians. 163 

are no other than the perturbations and distempers of the 
affections. For as the ancient politiques in popular states 
were wont to compare the people to the sea, and the 
orators to the winds; because as the sea would of itself be 
calm and quiet, if the winds did not move and trouble it; 
so the people would be peaceable and tractable, if the sedi¬ 
tious orators did not set them in working and agitation: 
so it may be fitly said, that the mind in the nature thereof 
would be temperate and stayed, if the affections, as winds, 
did not put it into tumult and perturbation. And here 
again I find strange, as before, that Aristotle should have 
written divers volumes of ethics, and never handled the 
affections, which is the principal subject thereof; and yet in 
his Rhetorics, where they are considered but collaterally, 
and in a second degree, as they may be moved by speech, 
he findeth place for them, and handleth them well for the 
quantity; but where their true place is, he pretermittelh 
them. 1 For it is not his disputations about pleasure and 
pain that can satisfy this inquiry, no more than he that 
should generally handle the nature of light can be said to 
handle the nature of colours ; for pleasure and pain are to 
the particular affections, as light is to particular colours. 
Better travails, I suppose, had the Stoics taken in this 
argument, as far as I can gather by that which we have at 
second hand. But yet, it is like, it was after their manner, 
rather in subtilty of definitions, (which in a subject of this 
nature are but curiosities,) than in active and ample de¬ 
scriptions and observations. So likewise I find some par¬ 
ticular writings of an elegant nature, touching some of the 
affections ; as of anger, of comfort upon adverse accidents, 
of tenderness of countenance, and other. 

7. But the poets and writers of histories are the best 
doctors of this knowledge; where we may find painted 
forth with great life, how affections are kindled and 
incited; and how pacified and refrained; and how again 
contained from act and further degree; how they disclose 
themselves; how they work; how they vary; how they 
gather and fortify; how they are in wrapped one within 
another; and how they do fight and encounter one with 
another; and other the like particularities: amongst the 
which this last is of special use in moral and civil matters; 
how, I say, to set affection against affection, and to master 
one by another; even as we use to hunt beast with beast, 
and fly bird with bird, which otherwise percase we could 


1 See the second book and conf. Eth. Nic. ii. 4, 1. 
M 2 



164 Various Influences brought to bear on Men’s Minds. 

not so easily recover: upon which foundation is erected 
that excellent use of prcemium and poena? whereby civil 
states consist: employing the predominant affections of 
fear and hope, for the suppressing and bridling the rest. 
For as in the government of states it is sometimes neces¬ 
sary to bridle one faction with another, so it is in the go¬ 
vernment within. 

8. Now come we to those points which are within our 
own command, and have force and operation upon the 
mind, to affect the will and appetite, and to alter manners : 
wherein they ought to have handled custom, exercise, 
habit, education, example, imitation, emulation, company, 
friends, praise, reproof, exhortation, fame, laws, books, 
studies: these as they have determinate use in moralities, 
from these the mind suffereth; and of these are such 
receipts and regiments compounded and described, as may 
seem to recover or preserve the health and good estate 
of the mind, as far as pertaineth to human medicine: of 
which number we will insist upon some one or two, as an 
example of the rest, because it were too long to prosecute 
all; and therefore we do resume custom and habit to 
speak of. 

9. The opinion of Aristotle seemeth to me a negligent 
opinion, that of those things which consist by nature, 
nothing can be changed by custom; using for example, 
that if a stone be thrown ten thousand times up, it will 
not learn to ascend ; 2 3 and that by often seeing or hearing, 
we do not learn to see or hear the better. For though 
this principle be true in things wherein nature is peremptory 
(the reason whereof we cannot now stand to discuss), yet 
it is otherwise in things wherein nature admitteth a la- 
titude. For he might see that a straight glove will come 
more easily on with use; and that a wand will by use bend 
otherwise than it grew; and that by use of the voice we 
speak louder and stronger; and that by use of enduring 
heat or cold, we endure it the better, and the like : whicE 
latter sort have a nearer resemblance unto that subject of 
manners he handleth, than those instances which he al- 
legeth. But allowing his conclusion, that virtues and 
vices consist in habit, he ought so much the more to have 
taught the manner of superinducing that habit: for there 
be many precepts of the wise ordering the exercises of the 


2 See Butler’s Analogy, chapter on Rewards and Punishments. 

3 Etli. Nic. ii. 1. 2. 



Cautions to be observed regarding them. 165 

mind, as there is of ordering the exercises of the body; 
whereof we will recite a few. 

1(). The first shall be, that we beware we take not at 
the first either too high a strain, or too weak: for if 
too high, in a diffident nature you discourage, in a confi¬ 
dent nature you breed an opinion of facility, and so a 
sloth; and in all natures you breed a further expectation 
than can hold out, and so an insatisfaction in the end: if 
too weak of the other side, you may not look to perform 
and overcome any great task. 

11. Another precept is, to practise all things chiefly at 
two several times, the one when the mind is best disposed, 
the other when it is worst disposed; that by the one you 
may gain a great step, by the other you may work out the 
knots and stonds of the mind, and make the middle times 
the more easy and pleasant. 

12. Another precept is, that which Aristotle men- 
tioneth by the way, which is to bear ever towards the 
contrary extreme of that whereunto we are by nature 
inclined; like unto the rowing against the stream, or 
making a wand straight by bending him contrary to his 
natural crookedness. 4 

13. Another precept is, that the mind is brought to any 
thing better, and with more sweetness and happiness, if 
that whereunto you pretend be not first in the intention, 
but tanquam aliud agendo , because of the natural hatred of 
the mind against necessity and constraint. Many other 
axioms there are touching the managing of exercise and 
custom; which being so conducted, doth prove indeed an¬ 
other nature; but being governed by chance, doth com¬ 
monly prove but an ape of nature, and bringing forth that 
which is lame and counterfeit. 

14. So if we should handle books and studies, and 
what influence and operation they have upon manners, are 
there not divers precepts of great caution and direction 
appertaining thereunto P Did not one of the fathers in 
great indignation call poesy, vinum dcemonum, because it 
increaseth temptations, perturbations, and vain opinions ? 
Is not the opinion of Aristotle worthy to be regarded, 
wherein he saith, That young men are no jit auditors of 
moral philosophy, because they are not settled from the 
boiling heat of their affections, nor attempered with time 
and experience ? 5 And doth it not hereof come, that those 
excellent books and discourses of the ancient writers, 


* Eth. Nic. ii. Q. 5. 


5 Eth. Nic. i. 1. 5. 



166 Of Moral Studies. 

(whereby they have persuaded unto virtue most effectually, 
by representing her in state and majesty, and popular 
opinions against virtue in their parasites’ coats fit to be 
scorned and derided,) are of so little effect towards honesty 
of life, because they are not read and revolved by men in 
their mature and settled years, but confined almost to 
boys and beginners ? But is it not true also, that much 
less young men are fit auditors of matters of policy, till 
they have been thoroughly seasoned in religion and 
morality; lest their judgments be corrupted, and made 
apt to think that there are no true differences of things, 
but according to utility and fortune, as the verse de¬ 
scribes it, 

Prosperum et felix scelus virtus vocatur; 6 

and again, 

Ille crucem pretium sceleris tulit, hie diadema: 7 

which the poets do speak satirically, and in indignation on 
virtue’s behalf; but books of policy do speak it seriously 
and positively; for so it pleaseth Machiavel to say, That 
if Caesar had been overthrown , he would have been more 
odious than ever was Catiline; as if there had been no 
difference, but in fortune, between a very fury of lust and 
blood, and the most excellent spirit (his ambition reserved) 
of the world ? Again, is there not a 'caution likewise to 
be given of the doctrines of moralities themselves, (some 
kinds of them,) lest they make men too precise, arrogant, 
incompatible; as Cicero saith of Cato, In Marco Catone 
hcec bona quae videmus divina et egregia, ipsius scitote esse 
propria; quae nonnunquam requirimus , ea sunt omnia non 
a naturd, sed a magistro ? s Many other axioms and 
advices there are touching those proprieties and effects, 
which studies do infuse and instil into manners. And so 
likewise is there touching the use of all those other points, 
of company, fame, laws, and the rest, which we recited in 
the beginning in the doctrine of morality. 

15. But there is a kind of culture of the mind that 
seemeth yet more accurate and elaborate than the rest, and 
is built upon this ground ; that the minds of all men are at 
some times in a state more perfect, and at other times in a 
state more depraved. The purpose, therefore, of this prac¬ 
tice is, to fix and cherish the good hours of the mind, and 
to obliterate and take forth the evil. The fixing of the good 
hath been practised by two means, vows or constant reso- 

0 Senec. Here. Fur. £51. 7 Juv. Sat. xiii. 105. 

8 Cic. p. Mur. xxix. 61. 



Man by applying himself wholly to ends of Virtue 167 

lutions, and observances or exercises; which are not to be 
regarded so much in themselves, as because they keep the 
mind in continual obedience. The obliteration of the evil 
hath been practised by two means, some kind of redemp¬ 
tion or expiation of that which is past, and an inception or 
account de novo, for the time to come. But this part 
seemeth sacred and religious, and justly; for all good moral 
philosophy, as was said, is but a handmaid to religion. 

16. Wherefore we will conclude with that last point, 
which is of all other means the most compendious and 
summary, and again, the most noble and effectual to the 
reducing of the mind unto virtue and good estate ; which 
is, the electing and propounding unto a man’s self good and 
virtuous ends of his life, such as may be in a reasonable 
sort within his compass to attain. For if these two things 
be supposed, that a man set before him honest and good 
ends, and again, that he be resolute, constant, and true 
unto them; it will follow that he shall mould himself into 
all virtue at once. And this indeed is like the work of 
nature; whereas the other course is like the work of the 
hand. For as when a carver makes an image, he shapes 
only that part whereupon he worketh, (as if he be upon 
the face, that part which shall be the body is but a rude stone 
still, till such time as he comes to it;) but, contrariwise, 
when nature makes a flower or living creature, she formeth 
rudiments of, all the parts at one time : so in obtaining 
virtue by habit, while a man practiseth temperance, he 
doth not profit much to fortitude, nor the like : but when 
he dedicateth and applieth himself to good ends, look, 
what virtue soever the pursuit and passage towards those 
ends doth commend unto him, he is invested of a prece¬ 
dent disposition to conform himself thereunto. Which 
state of mind Aristotle doth excellently express himself, 
that it ought not to be called virtuous, but divine: his 
words are these: Immanitati autem consentaneum est op- 
ponere earn, quae supra humanitatem est, heroicam sive 
divinam virtutem : and a little after, Nam ut ferae neque 
vitium neque virtus est, sic neque Dei: sed hie quidem 
status altius quiddam virtute est, ille aliud quiddam a vitio 9 
And therefore we may see what celsitude of honour Plinius 
Secundus attributeth to Trajan * 1 in his funeral oration; 

3 Aristot. Eth. Nic. vii. ]. 1. 

1 There is some mistake here, as the Panegyric referred to was 
delivered at the beginning of Trajan’s reign, and he outlived the 
speaker. Perhaps prospective prayers may be meant. Vid. Plin. 
Paneg. c. 94. 



168 may regain somewhat of the Image of God. 

where he said, That men needed to malee no other prayers 
to the gods, hut that they would continue as good Lords to 
them as Trajan had been; as if he had not been only an 
imitation of divine nature, but a pattern of it. But these 
be heathen and profane passages, having but a shadow of 
that divine state of mind, which religion and the holy 
faith doth conduct men unto, by imprinting upon their 
souls charity, which is excellently called the bond of per¬ 
fection, because it comprehendeth and fasteneth all vir¬ 
tues together. 2 And as it is elegantly said by Menander 
of vain love, which is but a false imitation of divine love, 
Amor melior Sophista laevo ad humanam vitam, that love 
teacheth a man to carry himself better than the sophist 
or preceptor; which he calleth left-handed, because, with 
all his rules and precepts, he cannot form a man so dex¬ 
terously, nor with that facility to prize himself and govern 
himself, as love can do: so certainly, if a man’s mind be 
truly inflamed with charity, it doth work him suddenly 
into a greater perfection than all the doctrine of morality 
can do, which is but a sophist in comparison of the other. 
Nay further, as Xenophon observed truly, that all other 
affections, though they raise the mind, yet they do it by 
distorting and uncomeliness of ecstasies or excesses; but 
only love doth exalt the mind, and nevertheless at the 
same instant doth settle and compose it: so in all other 
excellences, though they advance nature, yet they are 
subject to excess ; only charity admitteth no excess. For 
so we see, aspiring to be like God in power, the angels 
transgressed and fell; Ascendam , et ero similis altissimo .* 3 
by aspiring to be like God in knowledge, man transgressed 
and fell; JEritis sicut DU, scientes honum et malum : 4 but 
by aspiring to a similitude of God in goodness or love, 
neither man nor angel ever transgressed, or shall trans¬ 
gress. For unto that imitation we are called : Diligite 
inimicos vestros , henefacite eis gui odtrunt vos, et orate pro 
perseguentibus et calumniamtibus vos, ut sitis filii Patris 
vestri gui in coelis est, gui solem suum oriri facit super 
bonos et malos, et pluit super justos et injustos. 5 So in the 
first platform of the diviue nature itself, the heathen reli¬ 
gion speaketh thus, Optimus Maximus: and the sacred 
Scriptures thus, Misericordia ejus super omnia opera ejus. 6 

17. Wherefore I do conclude this part of moral know¬ 
ledge, concerning the culture and regimen of the mind ; 


2 Coloss, iii 14. 3 Jsai. xiv. 14. 4 Gen. iii. 5 . 

a Luke vi. 27, 28. <* p s . cx i v . 9 . 



Corresponding Excellencies of Mind and Body. 169 

wherein if any man, considering the parts thereof which I 
have enumerated, do judge that my labour is but to col¬ 
lect into an art or science that which hath been preter- 
mitted by others, as matter of common sense and expe¬ 
rience, he judgeth well. But as Philocrates sported with 
Demosthenes, You may not marvel , Athenians , that De¬ 
mosthenes and I do differ; for he drinketh water , and I 
drink wine ; 7 and like as we read of an ancient parable of 
the two gates of sleep, 

Sunt gemmae somni portae: quarum altera fertur 
Cornea, qua veris facilis datur exitus umbris : 

Altera eandenti perfects nitens elepltanto, 

Sed falsa ad ccelum mittunt insonnia manes : 8 

so if we put on sobriety and attention, we shall find it a 
sure maxim in knowledge, that the more pleasant liquor 
of wine is the more vaporous, and the braver gate of ivory 
sendeth forth the falser dreams. 

18. But we have now concluded that general part of 
human philosophy, which contemplateth man segregate, 
and as he consisteth of body and spirit. Wherein we may 
farther note, that there seemeth to be a relation or con¬ 
formity between the good of the mind and the good of the 
body. For as we divided the good of the body into 
health, beauty, strength, and pleasure; so the good of 
the mind, inquired in rational and moral knowledges, 
tendeth to this, to make the mind sound, and without 
perturbation; beautiful, and graced with decency; and 
strong and agile for all duties of life. These three, as in 
the body, so in the mind, seldom meet, and commonly 
sever. For it is easy to observe, that many have strength 
of wit and courage, but have neither health from pertur¬ 
bations, nor any beauty or decency in their doings: some 
again have an elegancy and fineness of carriage, which 
have neither soundness of honesty, nor substance of suffi¬ 
ciency : and some again have honest and reformed minds, 
that can neither become themselves nor manage business: 
and sometimes two of them meet, and rarely all three. 
As for pleasure, we have likewise determined that the 
mind ought not to be reduced to stupid, but to retain 
pleasure ; confined rather in the subject of it, than in the 
strength and vigour of it. 


1 Deraosth. de Fals. Leg. p. 355. 
8 Virg. JEn. vi. 893. 



170 


Neglect and Affectation to be 


. XXIII. 1. /~1IVIL knowledge 9 is con- 

Distnbutwn V_y yersant about a subject 

K wi An which, of all others is most immersed in matter, 

° 9 e ' and bardliest reduced to axiom. Neverthe¬ 

less, as Cato the Censor said, That the Romans were like 
sheep , for that a man might better drive a flock of them , 
than one of them ; for in a flock , if you could but get some 
few to go right , the rest would follow : x so in that respect 
moral philosophy is more difficile than policy. Again, 
moral philosophy propoundeth to itself the framing of 
internal goodness; but civil knowledge requireth only an 
external goodness; for that as to society sufficeth. And 
therefore it cometh oft to pass that there be evil times in 
good governments : for so we find in the holy story, when 
the kings were good, yet it is added, Sed adhuc populus 
non direxerat cor suum ad Dominum Deum patmim suorum? 
Again, states, as great engines, move slowly, and are not 
so soon put out of frame : for as in Egypt the seven good 
years sustained the seven bad, so governments for a time 
well grounded, do bear out errors following; but the 
resolution of particular persons is more suddenly sub¬ 
verted. These respects do somewhat qualify the extreme 
difficulty of civil knowledge. 

2. This knowledge hath three parts, according to the 
three summary actions of society; which are conversation, 
negotiation, and government. For man seeketh in society 
comfort, use, and protection: and they be three wisdoms 
of divers natures, which do often sever: wisdom of the 
behaviour, wisdom of business, and wisdom of state. 

The wisdom of conversation ought not to be over 
much affected, but much less despised; for it hath not 
only an honour in itself, but an influence also into business 
and government. The poet saith, Nec vultu destrue verba 
tuo : 3 a man may destroy the force of his words with his 
countenance : so may he of his deeds, saith Cicero, recom¬ 
mending to his brother affability and easy access; Nil 
interest habere ostium apertum, vultum clausum /* it is 
nothing won to admit men with an open door, and to 


9 In the Latin edition the eighth book begins here. 

1 Plut. in Vit. Cat. 2 2 Chron. xx. 33. 3 Ovid. A. A. ii. 312. 

4 The following is the passage referred to : “Cura ut aditus ad te 
diurni atque nocturni pateant; neque foribus solum aedium tuarum 
seil etiam vultu ac fronte quae est animi janua ; quae si significat 
voluntatem abditam esse ac retrusam, pai vi refert patere ostium.” 
Q. Cic. de Petit. Consul. xi. 44. 



171 


equally avoided in Behaviour. 

receive them with a shut and reserved countenance. So, 
we see, Atticus, before the first interview between Csesar 
and Cicero, the war depending, did seriously advise Cicero 
touching the composing and ordering of his countenance 
and gesture. 5 And if the government of the countenance 
be of such effect, much more is that of the speech, and 
other carriage appertaining to conversation; the true 
model whereof seemeth to me well expressed by Livy, 
though not meant for this purpose: Ne aut arrogans 
videar, aut obnoxius ; quorum alterum est alienee libertatis 
obliti, alterum suce : 6 The sum of behaviour is to retain a 
man’s own dignity, without intruding upon the liberty of 
others. On the other side, if behaviour and outward 
carriage be intended too much, first it may pass into 
affectation, and then Quid deformius quam scenam in vitam 
transferre (to act a man’s life) ? But although it proceed 
not to that extreme, yet it consumeth time, and employeth 
the mind too much. And therefore as we use to advise 
young students from company keeping, by saying, Amici' 
fares temporis: so certainly the intending of the discretion 
of behaviour is a great tlnef of meditation. Again, such 
as are accomplished in that hour of urbanity please them¬ 
selves in it, and seldom aspire to higher virtue ; whereas 
those that have defect in it do seek comeliness by reputa¬ 
tion ; for where reputation is, almost everything becometh; 
but where that is not, it must be supplied by puntos, 
and compliments. Again, there is no greater impediment 
of action than an over-curious observance of decency, and 
the guide of decency, which is time and season. For as 
Solomon saith, Qui respicit ad ventos, non seminat; et qui 
respicit ad nubes, non metet : 7 a man must make his oppor¬ 
tunity, as oft as find it. To conclude, behaviour seemeth 
to me as a garment of the mind, and to have the conditions 
of a garment. For it ought to be made in fashion; it 
ought not to be too curious ; it ought to be shaped so as 
to set forth any good making of the mind, and hide any 
deformity ; anil above all, it ought not to be too strait, or 
restrained for exercise or motion. But this part of civil 
knowledge hath been elegantly handled, and therefore I 
cannot report it for deficient. 

3. The wisdom touching negotiation or business hath 
not been hitherto collected into writing, to the great 
derogation of learning, and the professors of learning. 

5 He seems to refer to the letter ad Att. ix. 0. 

6 Livy xxiii. 12. 7 Lccles. xi. 4. 



172 Of Tact in the Conduct of Affairs. 

For from this root springeth chiefly that note or opinion, 
which by us is expressed in adage to this effect, that 
there is no great concurrence between learning and 
wisdom. For of the three wisdoms which we have set 
down to pertain to civil life, for wisdom of behaviour, it is 
by learned men for the most part despised, as an inferior 
to virtue, and an enemy to meditation; for wisdom of 
government, they acquit themselves well, when they are 
called to it, but that happeneth to few; but for the wisdom 
of business, wherein man’s life is most conversant, there be 
no books of it, except some few scattered advertisements, 
that have no proportion to the magnitude of this subject. 
For if books were written of this, as the other, I doubt 
not but learned men with mean experience, would far excel 
men of long experience without learning, and outshoot 
them in their own bow. 

4. Neither needeth it at all to be doubted, that this know¬ 
ledge should be so variable as it falletli not under precept; 
for it is much less infinite than science of government, 
which, we see, is laboured and in some part reduced. Of 
this wisdom, it seemeth some of the ancient Eomans, 
in the saddest and wisest times, were professors; for Cicero 
reporteth, that it was then in use for senators that had 
name and opinion for general wise men, as Coruncanius, 
Curius, Lselius, and many others, to walk at certain hours 
in the Place, and to give audience to those that would use 
their advice ; and that the particular citizens would resort 
unto them, and consult with them of the marriage of a 
daughter, or of the employing of a son, or of a purchase 
or bargain, or of an accusation, and every other occasion 
incident to man’s life. So as there is a wisdom of counsel 
and advice even in private causes, arising out of a universal 
insight into the affairs of the world; which is used indeed 
upon particular causes propounded, but is gathered by 
general observation of causes of like nature. For so we 
see in the book which Q. Cicero writeth to his brother, 
De peiitione consulatus, (being the only book of business 
that I know written by the ancients,) although it concerned 
a particular action set on foot, yet the substance thereof 
consisteth of many wise and politic axioms, which contain 
not a temporary, but a perpetual direction in the case of 
popular elections. But chiefly w r e may see in those 
aphorisms which have place among divine writings, com¬ 
posed by Solomon the king, (of whom the Scriptures 
testify that his heart was as the sands of the sea, encom¬ 
passing the world and all worldly matters,) we see, I say, 


Wisdom of Solomon herein . 173 

not a few profound and excellent cautions, precepts, posi¬ 
tions, extending to much variety of occasions; whereupon 
we will stay awhile, offering to consideration some number 
of examples. 

5. Sed et cunctis sermonibus qui dicuntur ne accommodes 
aurem tuam, ne forte audias servum tuum maledicentem 
tibi. 8 Here is concluded the provident stay of inquiry of 
that which we would be loth to find: as it was judged great 
wisdom in Pompeius Magnus that he burned Sertorius’s 
papers unperused. 9 

Vir sapiens, si cum stulto contenderit, sive irascatur, 
sive rideat, non inveniet requiem} Here is described the 
great disadvantage which a wise man hath in undertaking 
a lighter person than himself; which is such an engage¬ 
ment as, whether a man turn the matter to jest, or turn it 
to heat, or howsoever he change copy, he can no ways quit 
himself w r ell of it. 

Qui delicate a pueritia nutrit servum suum, postea 
sentiet eum contumacem? Here is signified, that if a man 
begin too high a pitch in his favours, it-doth commonly end 
in unkindness and unthankfulness. 

Vidisti virum velocem in opere suo ? coram regibus 
stabit, nec erit inter ignobiles . 3 Here is observed, that of 
all virtues for rising to honour, quickness of despatch is 
the best; for superiors many times love not to have those 
they employ too deep or too sufficient, but ready and 
diligent. 

Vidi cunctos viventes qui ambulant sub sole, cum adoles- 
cente secundo qui consurgit pro eo. 4 Here is expressed that 
which was noted by Sylla first, and after him by Tiberius ; 
JPlures adorant solem orientem quam occidentem vel meri- 
dianum. 5 

Si spiritus potestatem habentis ascenderit super te, locum 
tuum ne demiser is; quia curatio faciet cessare peccata 
maxima . 6 Here caution is given, that upon displeasure, 
retiring is of all courses the unfittest; for a man leaveth 
things at worst, and depriveth himself of means to make 
them better. 

JErat civitas parva, et pauci in ea viri: venit contra 
earn, rex magnus, et vadavit earn, instruxitque munitiones 
per gyrum, et perfecta est obsidio ; inventusque est in ea vir 
pauper et sapiens, et liberavit earn per sapientiam suam; 


8 Eccles. vii. 21. 9 See Plut. in Vit. Pomp. 

1 Prov. xxix. 9. 2 xxix. 21. 3 xxii. 29. 4 Eccles. iv. 15. 

* Plut. Vit. Pomp, and Tacit. Ann. vi. 46. 8 Eccles. x. 4. 



174 


His Proverbs 


et nullus dein ceps recordatus est hominis illius pauperis? 
Here the corruption of states is set forth, that esteem not 
virtue or merit longer than they have use of it. 

Mollis responsio frangit irarn? Here is noted that 
silence or rough answer exasperateth; but an answer 
present and temperate pacifieth. 

Iter pigrorum quasi sepes spin arum? Here is lively 
represented how laborious sloth proveth in the end; for 
when things are deferred till the last instant, and nothing 
prepared beforehand, every step findeth a brier or an im¬ 
pediment, which catcheth or stoppeth. 

Melior est finis orationis quarn principium? Here is 
taxed the vanity of formal speakers, that study more about 
prefaces and inducements, than upon the conclusions and 
issues of speech. 

Qui cognoscit injudicio faciem, non bene facit; iste et 
pro bucella panis deseret veritatem? Here is noted, that a 
judge were better be a briber than a respecter of persons ; 
for a corrupt judge offendeth not so highly as a facile. 

Vir pauper calumnians pauperes similis est irnbri 
vehementi, in quo paratur fames? Here is expressed the 
extremity of necessitous extortions, figured in the ancient 
fable of the full and the hungry horseleech. 

Fons turbatus pede, et vena corrupta, est justus cadens 
coram inipio 4 . Here is noted, that one judicial and exemplar 
iniquity in the face of the world, doth trouble the fountains 
of justice more than many particular injuries passed over 
by connivance. 

Qui subtrahit aliquid a patre et a matre, et dicit hoc 
non esse peccatum, particeps est homicidii? Here is noted, 
that whereas men in wronging their best friends use to 
extenuate their fault, as if they might presume or be bold 
upon them, it doth contrariwise indeed aggravate their 
fault, and turneth it from injury to impiety. 

Noli esse amicus homini iracundo, nec ambulato cum 
homine furioso? Here caution is given, that in the election 
of our friends we do principally avoid those which are 
impatient, as those that will espouse us to many factions 
and quarrels. 

Qui conturbat domum suam, possidebit ventum? Here 
is noted, that in domestical separations and breaches men 


7 Eccles. ix. 14, 15. 8 Prov. xv. 1. 9 xv. 19. 

1 Eccles. vii. 8. 2 Prov. xxviii. 21. 8 xxviii. 3. 

4 xxv. 26. 5 xxviii. 24. « xxii. 24. 

7 xi. 29. 



175 


regarding it. 

do promise to tliemselves quieting of their mind and con-. 
tentment; but still they are deceived of their expectation, 
and it turneth to wind. 

Filius sapiens Icetijicat patrem : jilius vero stultus mces- 
titia est matri suce. s Here is distinguished, that fathers- 
have most comfort of the good proof of their sons; but 
mothers have most discomfort of their ill proof, because 
women have little discerning of virtue, but of fortune. 

Qui celat delictum , qucerit amicitiam; sed qui altero ser- 
mone repetit, separat feederatos? Here caution is given, that 
reconcilement is better managed by an amnesty, and passing 
over that which is past, than by apologies and excusations. 

In omni opere bono erit abundantia; ubi autem verba 
sunt plurima, ibi frequenter egestas. 1 Here is noted, that 
words and discourse abound most where there is idleness 
and want. 

Primus in sua causa justus; sed venit altera pars, et 
inquiret in eum . 2 Here is observed, that in all causes the 
first tale possesseth much ; in such sort, that the pre¬ 
judice thereby wrought will be hardly removed, except 
some abuse or falsity in the information be detected. 

Verba bilinguis quasi simplicia, et ipsa perveniunt ad 
interior a ventris . 3 Here is distinguished, that flattery and 
insinuation, which seemeth 'set and artificial, sinketh not 
far; but that entereth deep which hath show of nature, 
liberty, and simplicity. 

Qui erudit derisorem, ipse sibi injuriam facit; et qui 
arguit impium, cibi maculam generate Here caution is 
given how we tender reprehension to arrogant and scornful 
natures, whose manner is to esteem it for contumely, and 
accordingly to return it. 

Da sapienti occasionem, et addetur ei sapiential Here 
is distinguished the wisdom brought into habit, and that 
which is but verbal, and swimming only in conceit; for 
the one upon occasion presented is quickened and redou¬ 
bled, the other is amazed and confused. 

Quomodo in aquis resplendent vultus prospicientium, sic 
corda hominum manifesta suntprudentibus? Here the mind 
of a wise man is compared to a glass, wherein the images 
of all diversity of natures and customs are represented; 
from which representation proceedeth that application, 

Qui sapit, innumeris moribus aptus erit . 7 

* Prov. x. 1. 9 xvii. 9. 1 xiv. 23. 8 xviii. 17. 

* xviii. 8. 4 ix. 7. 6 ix. 9. « xxvii. 19. 

7 Ovid, de Art. Am. i. 760. 




176 


Examples best drawn from History. 

Thus have I stayed somewhat longer upon these sen¬ 
tences politic of Solomon than is agreeable to the propor¬ 
tion of an example ; led with a desire to give authority to 
this part of knowledge, which I noted as deficient, by so 
excellent a precedent; and have also attended them with 
brief observations, such as to my understanding offer no 
violence to the sense, though I know they may be applied 
to a more divine use: but it is allowed, even in divinity, 
that some interpretations, yea, and some writings, have 
more of the eagle than others; but taking them as in¬ 
structions for life, they might have received large dis- -f 
course, if I would have broken them and illustrated them 
by deducements and examples. 

6. Neither was this in use only with the Hebrews, but 
it is generally to be found in the wisdom of the more 
ancient times; that as men found out any observation 
that they thought was good for life, they would gather it, t; 
and express it in parable, or aphorism, or fable. But for 
fables, they were vicegerents and supplies where examples 
failed: now that the times abound with history, the aim 
is better when the mark is alive. And therefore the form 
of writing which of all others is fittest for this variable 
argument of negotiation and occasions is that which Ma- 
chiavel chose wisely and aptly for government; namely, 
discourse upon histories or examples. For knowledge 
drawn freshly, and in our view, out of particulars, knoweth 
the way best to particulars again; and it hath much 
greater life for practice when the discourse attendeth upon 
the example, than when the example attendeth upon the 
discourse. For this is no point of order, as it seemeth at 
first, but of substance: for when the example is the 
ground, being set down in a history at large, it is set down 
with all circumstances, which may sometimes control the 
discourse thereupon made, and sometimes supply it as a 
very pattern for action; whereas the examples alleged for 
the discourse’s sake are cited succinctly, and without par¬ 
ticularity, and carry a servile aspect towards the discourse 
which they are brought in to make good. 

7. But this difference is not amiss to be remembered, 
that as history of times is the best ground for discourse of 
government, such as Machiavel handleth, so history of 
lives is the most proper for discourse of business, for dis¬ 
course of business is more conversant in private actions. 8 


8 The edd. of 1605,1629, and 1633, all read history of lives is 
the most proper; for discourse of business is more conversant in 



177 


Power of the Wise over Fortune. 

Nay, there is a ground of discourse for this purpose fitter 
than them both, which is discourse upon letters, such as are 
wise and weighty, as many are of Cicero ad Atticum, and 
others. For letters have a great and more particular re¬ 
presentation of business than either chronicles or lives. 
Thus have we spoken both of the matter and form of this 
part of civil knowledge, touching negociation, which we 
note to be deficient. 

8. But yet there is another part of this part, which 
differeth as much from that whereof we have spoken as 
sapere and sibi sapere, the one moving as it were to the 
circumference, the other to the centre. For there is a 
wisdom of counsel, and again there is a wisdom of pressing 
a man’s own fortune; and they do sometimes meet, and 
often sever. For many are wise in their own ways that 
are weak for government or counsel; like ants, which 
is a wise creature for itself, but very hurtful for the 
garden. This wisdom the Romans did take much know¬ 
ledge of: Nam pol sapiens, saith the comical poet, fingit 
fortunam sibi ; 9 and it grew to an adage, Faber quisque 
fortunes proprice ; and Livy attributed it to Cato the first, 
in hoc viro tanta vis animi et ingenii inerat, ut quocunque 
loco natus esset sibi ipse fortunam facturus videretur. * 1 

This conceit or position, if it be too much declared 
and professed, hath been thought a thing impolitic and 
unlucky, as was observed in Timotheus the Athenian, who, 
having done many great services to the estate in his 
government, and giving an account thereof to the people, 
as the manner was, did conclude every particular with this 
clause, And in this fortune had no part. And it came so 
to pass, that he never prospered in any thing he took in 
hand afterwards : for this is too high and too arrogant, 
savouring of that which Ezekiel saith of Pharaoh, Dicis, 
Fluvius est mens et ego feci memet ipsum : 2 or of that which 
another prophet speaketh, that men offer sacrifices to their 
nets and snares ; and that which the poet expresseth, 
Dextra mihi Deus, et telum quod missile libro, 

Nunc adsint ! 3 

for these confidences were ever unhallowed, and unblessed : 


private actions. The Latin edition has Ita historiae vitarum optime 
adldbentur ad documenta de negotiis; quoniam omnium occasionum 
et negotiorum tarn grandium quam leviorum, varietatem complec- 
tuntur. I have ventured to insert the words which seemed wanting 
to complete the sense. 9 Plaut. Trin. ii. 2. 87. 

1 Liv. xxxix. 40. 2 Ezek. xxix. 3. 3 Virg. AZn. x. 773. 



178 Lofty Spirits conscious of their own greatness. 

and therefore those that were great politiques indeed ever 
ascribed their successes to their felicity, and not to their 
skill or virtue. For so Sylla surnamed himself Felix, not 
Magnus : so Csesar said to the master of the ship, Ccesarem 
porias et fortunam ejus, 4 

9. But yet nevertheless these positions, Faber quis- 
que fortunes sues: sapiens dominabitur astris: invia 
virtuti nulla est via , 5 and the like, being taken and used 
as spurs to industry, and not as stirrups to insolency, 
rather for resolution than for presumption or outward 
declaration, have been ever thought sound and good ; and 
are, no question, imprinted in the greatest minds, who are so 
sensible of this opinion, as they can scarce contain it within. 
As we see in Augustus Csesar, (who was rather diverse 
from his uncle, than inferior in virtue,) how when he died, 
he desired his friends about him to give him a plaudite, as 
if he were conscient to himself that he had played his 
part well upon the stage. 6 This part of knowledge we do 
report also as deficient: not but that it is practised too 
much, but it hath not been reduced to writing. And there¬ 
fore lest it should seem to any that it is not comprehen¬ 
sible by axiom, it is requisite, as we did in the former, 
that we set down some heads or passages of it. 

10. Wherein it may appear at the first a new and un¬ 
wonted argument to teach men how to raise and make 
their fortune; a doctrine wherein every man perchance 
will be ready to yield himself a disciple, till he see the diffi¬ 
culty : for fortune layeth as heavy impositions as virtue ; 
and it is as hard and severe a thing to be a true poli¬ 
tique, as to be truly moral. But the handling hereof con- 
cerneth learning greatly, both in honour and in substance : 
in honour, because pragmatical men may not go away with 
an opinion that learning is like a lark, that can mount, 
and sing, and please herself, and nothing else; but may 
know that she holdeth as well of the hawk, that can soar 
aloft, and can also descend and strike upon the prey: in 
substance, because it is the perfect law of inquiry of truth, 
that nothing be in the globe of matter, which should not 
be likewise in the globe of crystal, or form ; that is, that 


4 Compare with this a curious letter from Cato to Cicero ( ap . 

Cic. ad Fam. xv. 5), wherein he says: Supplicationem decretam, si 
tu, qua in re nihil fortuito, sed summa tua ratione et continentia 
reipuhlicae, provisum est, dis immortalibns gratulari nos quam tibi 
referre acceptum mavis, gaudeo. 5 Ovid. Met. xiv. 113. 

6 See Suetou. Vit. Aug. c. 99. 



179 


Study of Mankind essential to success in Life. 

there be not any thing in being and action, which should 
not be drawn and collected into contemplation and doc¬ 
trine. Neither doth learning admire or esteem of this 
architecture of fortune, otherwise than as of an inferior 
work: for no man’s fortune can be an end worthy of his 
being; and many times the worthiest men do abandon 
their fortune willingly for better respects: but neverthe¬ 
less fortune, as an organ of virtue and merit, deserveth 
the consideration. 

11. First, therefore, the precept which I conceive to 
be most summary towards the prevailing in fortune, is to 
obtain that window which Momus did require : 7 who 
seeing in the frame of man’s heart such angles and re¬ 
cesses, found fault that there was not a window to look 
into them ; that is, to procure good informations of parti¬ 
culars touching persons, their natures, their desires and 
ends, their customs and fashions, their helps and advan¬ 
tages, and whereby they chiefly stand: so again their 
weaknesses and disadvantages, and where they lie most 
open and obnoxious; their friends, factions, and depend¬ 
encies ; and again their opposites, enviers, competitors, 
their moods and times, Sola viri molles aditus et tempora 
novas f their principles, rules, and observations, and the 
like : and this not only of persons, but of actions ; what 
are on foot from time to time, and how they are con¬ 
ducted, favoured, opposed, and how they import, and the 
like. For the knowledge of present actions is not only 
material in itself, but without it also the knowledge of 
persons is very erroneous: for men change with the 
actions ; and whiles they are in pursuit they are one, and 
when they return to their nature they are another. These 
informations of particulars, touching persons and actions, 
are as the minor propositions in every active syllogism; 
for no excellency of observations, which are as the major 
propositions, can suffice to ground a conclusion, if there be 
error and mistaking in the minors. 

That this knowledge is possible, Solomon is our surety ; 
who saith, Consilium in corde viri tanquam aqua profunda ; 
sed vir prudens exhauriet illud? And although the know¬ 
ledge itself falleth not under precept, because it is of 
individuals, yet the instructions for the obtaining of it 
may. 

12. We will begin, therefore, with this precept, ac- 


i Lucian. Hermot. 20. See also Erasm. Chil. i. v. 74. 
s Virg. 2En. iv. 423. 9 Prov. xx. v. 

N 2 



180 How to discover the secrets of all hearts 

cording to the ancient opinion, that the sinews of wisdom 
are slowness of belief and distrust; that more trust be 
given to countenances and deeds than to words: and in 
words rather to sudden passages and surprised w ords than 
to set and purposed words. Neither let that be feared 
which is said ,frontinullafides: } which is meant of a general 
outward behaviour, and not of the private and subtile 
motions and labours of the countenance and gesture; 
which as Q. Cicero elegantly saith, is Animi janua , the 
gate of the mind? None more close than Tiberius, and 
yet Tacitus saith of Gallus, Etenim vultu offensionem con - 
jectaverat. 3 So again, noting the differing character and 
manner of his commending Germanicus and Drusus in 
the senate, he saith, touching his fashion wherein he 
carried his speech of Germanicus, thus ; Magis in speciem 
adornatis verbis, quam ut penitus sentire crederetur .* but 
of Drusus thus: Paucioribus sed intention , etfida oratione : 4 
and in another place, speaking of his character of speech, 
when he did any thing that was gracious and popular, he 
saith, that in other things he was velut eluctantium ver* 
borum; 5 but then again, solutius vero loquebatur quando sub - 
veniret. So that there is no such artificer of dissimulation, 
nor no such commanded countenance, vultus jussus, that 
can sever from a feigned tale some of these fashions, 
either a more slight and careless fashion, or more set and 
formal, or more tedious and wandering, or coming from 
a man more drily and hardly. 

13. Neither are deeds such assured pledges, as that 
they may be trusted without a judicious consideration of 
their magnitude and nature : Frans sibi in parvis fidem 
proestruit ut majore emolumento fallat: and the Italian 
thinketh himself upon the point to be bought and sold, 
when he is better used than he was w r ont to be, without 
manifest cause. For small favours, they do but lull men 
asleep, both as to caution and as to industry; and are, as 
Demosthenes calleth them, Alimenta socordice. So again 
we see how false the nature of some deeds are, in that 
particular which Mutianus practised upon Antonius Primus, 
upon that hollow and unfaithful reconcilement which was 
made between them; whereupon Mutianus advanced 
many of the friends of Antonius : simul amicis ejusproofec- 
turas et tribunatus largitur ; 6 wherein, under pretence to 


2 De Petit. Consul, xi. 44. 

4 i. 52. 

6 Tacit. Hist. iv. 39. 


1 Juv. Sat. ii. 8. 

8 Tacit. Ann. i. 12. 
5 Ibid . iv. 31. 




by watching occasions 181 

strengthen him, he did desolate him, and won from him 
his dependences. 

14. As for words, though they be like waters to physi¬ 
cians, full of flattery and uncertainty, yet they are not to 
be despised, especially with the advantage of passion and 
affection. For so we see Tiberius, upon a stinging and 
incensing speech of Agrippina, came a step forth of his 
dissimulation, when he said, You are hurt because you do 
not reign ; of which Tacitus saith, Audita hcecraram occulti 
pectoris vocem elicuere; correptamque Grceco versu ad- 
monuit, ideo Icedi , quia non regnaret? And therefore the 
poet doth elegantly call passions, tortures that urge men 
to confess their secrets : 

Vino tortus et ira. 7 8 9 

And experience showeth, there are few men so true to 
themselves and so settled, but that, sometimes upon heat, 
sometimes upon bravery, sometimes upon kindness, some¬ 
times upon trouble of mind and weakness, they open 
themselves ; especially if they be put to it with a counter¬ 
dissimulation, according to the proverb of Spain, Di men- 
tira, y sacaras verdad (Tell a lie and find a truth.) 

15. As for the knowing of men, which is at second 
hand from reports; men’s weaknesses and faults are best 
known from their enemies, their virtues and abilities from 
their friends, their customs and times from their servants, 
their conceits and opinions from their familiar friends, 
with whom they discourse most. General fame is light, 
and the opinions conceived by superiors or equals are 
deceitful; for to such, men are more masked: Verior fama 
e domestinis emanate 

16. But the soundest disclosing and expounding of men 
is by their natures and ends, wherein the weakest sort of 
men are best interpreted by their natures, and the wisest 
by their ends. For it was both pleasantly and wisely 
said, though I think very untruly, by a nuncio of the 
pope, returning from a certain nation where he served as 
lidger; whose opinion being asked touching the appoint¬ 
ment of one to go in his place, he wished that in any case 
they did not send one that was too wise; because no very 
wise man would ever imagine what they in that country 


7 Tacit. Ann . iv. 52, and cf. Snet. Vit. Tib. c. 53. 

8 Hor. Epist. i. xviii. 38. 

9 Fer£ omnis serrno ad forensem farnam e domesticis emanat 
auctoribus. Q. Cic. de Petit Consul, v. 17. 



182 and observing men's Natures and Ends. 

were like to do. And certainly it is an error frequent for 
men to slioot over, and to suppose deeper ends, and more 
compass-reaches than are: the Italian proverb being 
elegant, and for the most part true : 

Di danari, di senno, e di fede, 

C’e ne manco che non credi. 

(There is commonly less money, less wisdom, and less 
good faith than men do account upon.) 

17. But princes, upon a far other reason, are best inter¬ 
preted by their natures, and private persons by their ends. 
For princes being at the top of human desires, they have 
for the most part no particular ends whereto they aspire, 
by distance from which a man might take measure and 
scale of the rest of their actions and desires ; which is one 
of the causes that maketh their hearts more inscrutable. 
Neither is it sufficient to inform ourselves in men’s ends 
and natures, of the variety of them only, but also of the 
predominancy, what humour reigneth most, and what end 
is principally sought. For so we see, when Tigellinus saw 
himself outstripped by Petronius Turpilianus in Nero’s 
humours of pleasures, metus ejus rimatur 1 (he wrought 
upon Nero’s fears), whereby he brake the other’s neck. 

18. But to all this part of inquirv the most compen¬ 
dious way resteth in three things: the first, to have general 
acquaintance and inwardness with those which have general 
acquaintance and look most into the world; and especially 
according to the diversity of business, and the diversity of 
persons, to have privacy and conversation with some one 
friend, at least, which is perfect and well intelligenced in 
every several kind. The second is, to keep a good medio¬ 
crity in liberty of speech and secresy; in most things 
liberty: secresy where it importeth; for liberty of speech 
inviteth and provoketh liberty to be used again, and so 
bringetk much to a man’s knowledge; and secresy, on the 
other side, induceth trust and inwardness. The last is, the 
reducing of a man’s self to this watchful and serene habit, 
as to make account and purpose, in every conference and 
action, as well to observe as to act. For as Epictetus 
would have a philosopher in every particular action to say 


1 This expression occurs Tacit. Ann. xiv. 57. It is spoken, 
however, of the intrigues of Tigellinus against Plautus and Sulla, 
by which he induced Nero to have both of them murdered. Petro¬ 
nius Turpilianus was put to death by Galba, solely because he had 
eujoyed Nero’s confidence. Vid. Tacit. Hist. i. 6 . 



“ Know Thyself, 


183 


to himself, Et hoc volo, et etiam institution servare ; 2 so a 
politic man in everything should say to himself, Et hoc 
volo, ac etiam aliquid addiscere. I have stayed the longer 
upon this precept of obtaining good information, because 
it is a main part by itself, which answereth to all the rest. 
But, above all things, caution must be taken that men have 
a good stay and hold of themselves, and that this much 
knowledge do not draw on much meddling; for nothing is 
more unfortunate than light and rash intermeddling in 
many matters. So that this variety of knowledge tendeth 
in conclusion but only to this, to make a better and freer 
choice of those actions which may concern us, and to 
conduct them with the less error and the more dexterity. 

19. The second precept concerning this knowledge is, 
for men to take good information touching their own 
person, and well to understand themselves: knowing that, 
as St. James saith, though men look oft in a glass, yet 
they do suddenly forget themselves ; wherein as the divine 
glass is the word of God, so the politic glass is the state of 
the world, or times wherein we live, in the which we are 
to behold ourselves. 

20. For men ought to take an impartial view of their 
own abilities and virtues; and again of their wants and 
impediments; accounting these with the most, and those 
other with the least; and from this view and examination 
to frame the considerations following. 

First, to consider how the constitution of their nature 
sorteth with the general state of the times; which if they 
find agreeable and fit, then in all things to give themselves 
more scope and liberty; but if differing and dissonant, then 
in the whole course of their life to be more close, retired, 
and reserved: as we see in Tiberius, who was never seen 
at a play, and came not into the Senate in twelve of his 
last years; whereas Augustus Caesar lived ever in men’s 
eyes, which Tacitus observeth, alia Tiberio morum via? 

21. Secondly, to consider how their nature sorteth 
with professions and courses of life, and accordingly to 
make election, if they be free; and, if engaged, to make 
the departure at the first opportunity: as we see was done 
by Duke Valentine, that was designed by his father to a 
sacerdotal profession, but quitted it soon after in regard of 
his parts and inclination; being such, nevertheless, as a 


2 Vid. Epictet. Enchir. c. 4. 


2 Tacit. Ann. i. 54. 



184 Choice of Pursuits, Friends, Examples. 

man cannot tell well whether they were worse for a prince 
or for a priest. 

22. Thirdly, to consider how they sort with those whom 
they are like to have competitors and concurrents ; and to 
take that course wherein there is most solitude, and them¬ 
selves like to be most eminent: as Caesar Julius did, who 
at first was an orator or pleader; but when he saw the 
excellency of Cicero, Hortensius, Catulus, and others, for 
eloquence, and saw there was no man of reputation for the 
wars but Pompeius, upon whom the state was forced to 
rely, he forsook his course begun toward a civil and 
popular greatness, and transferred his designs to a martial 
greatness. 

23. Fourthly, in the choice of their friends and de¬ 
pendences, to proceed according to the composition of 
their own nature: as we may see in Caesar; all whose 
friends and followers were men active and effectual, but 
not solemn, or of reputation. 

24. Fifthly, to take special heed how they guide them¬ 
selves by examples, in thinking they can do as they see 
others do; whereas perhaps their natures and carriages 
are far differing. In which error it seemeth Pompey was, 
of whom Cicero saith, that he was wont often to say, Sulla 
potuit—ego nonpotero ? A Wherein he was much abused, 
the natures and proceedings of himself and his example 
being the unlikest in the world; the one being fierce, 
violent, and pressing the fact; the other solemn, and full 
of majesty and circumstance, and therefore the less ef¬ 
fectual. 

But this precept touching the politic knowledge of 
ourselves, hath many other branches, whereupon we can¬ 
not insist. 

25Next to the well understanding and discerning of 
a man’s self, there followeth the well opening and reveaTino- 
a man’s self; wherein we see nothing more usual than for 
the more able man to make the less show. For there is a 
great advantage in the well setting forth of a man’s vir¬ 
tues, fortunes, merits ; and again, in the artificial covering 
of a man’s weaknesses, defects, disgraces; staying upon 
the one, sliding from the other; cherishing the one by 
circumstances, gracing the other by exposition, and the 
like: wherein we see what Tacitus saith of Mutianus, 
who was the greatest politique of his time, Omnium qua 


4 Cic. ad Alt . ix. 10. 2. 




Caution against Officiousness and Vanity. 185 

dixerat feceratque arte quadam ostentator : 5 which re- 
quireth indeed some art, lest it turn tedious and arrogant; 
but yet so, as ostentation, though it be to the first degree 
of vanity, seemeth to me rather a vice in manners than in 
policy: for as it is said, Audacter calumniare, semper 
aliquid hceret: so, except it be in a ridiculous degree of 
deformity, Audacter te vendita , semper aliquid hceret. For 
it will stick with the more ignorant and inferior sort of 
men, though men of wisdom and rank do smile at it, and 
despise it; and yet the authority won with many doth 
countervail the disdain of a few. But if it be carried with 
decency and government, as with a natural, pleasant, and 
ingenious fashion; or at times when it is mixed with 
some peril and unsafety, as in military persons; or at 
times when others are most envied; or with easy and 
careless passage to it and from it, without dwelling 
too long, or being too serious ; or with an equal freedom 
of taxing a man’s self, as well as gracing himself ; or by 
occasion of repelling or putting down others’ injury or 
insolence; it doth greatly add to reputation: and surely 
not a few solid natures, that want this ventosity, and 
cannot sail in the height of the winds, are not without 
some prejudice and disadvantage by their moderation. 

26. But for these flourishes and enhancements of 
virtue, as they are not perchance unnecessary, so it is at 
least necessary that virtue be not disvalued and imbased 
under the just price; which is done in three manners : by 
offering and obtruding a man’s self; wherein men think 
he is rewarded, when he is accepted; by doing too much, 
which will not give that which is well done leave to settle, 
and in the end induceth satiety ; and by finding too soon 
the fruit of a man’s virtue, in commendation, applause, 
honour, favour; wherein if a man be pleased with a little, 
let him hear what is truly said; Cave ne insuetus rebus 
majoribus videaris , si hcec te res parva sicuti magna 
delectat. 

27. But the covering of defects is of no less importance 
than the valuing of good parts; which may be done like¬ 
wise in three manners, by caution , by colour , and by con¬ 
fidence. Caution is when men do ingeniously and dis¬ 
creetly avoid to be put into those things for which they 
are not proper: whereas, contrariwise, bold and unquiet 
spirits will thrust themselves into matters without differ¬ 
ence, and so publish and proclaim all their wants. Colour 


6 Tacit. Hist. ii. 80, 




186 


Or, on the other hand, want of Self-confidence. 

is, when men make a way for themselves, to have a con¬ 
struction made of their faults or wants, as proceeding from 
a better cause, or intended for some other purpose: for of 
the one it is well said, 

Soepe Jatet vitium proximitate boni, 6 

and therefore whatsoever want a man hath, he must see 
that he pretend the virtue that shadoweth it; as if he be 
dull, he must affect gravity; if a coward, mildness; and 
so the rest: for the second, a man must frame some pro¬ 
bable cause why he should not do his best, and why he 
should dissemble his abilities ; and for that purpose must . < 
use to dissemble those abilities which are notorious in 
him, to give colour that his true wants are but industries 
and dissimulations. For confidence , it is the last but 
surest remedy; namely, to depress and seem to despise 
whatsoever a man cannot attain; observing the good 
principle of the merchants, who endeavour to raise the 
price of their own commodities, and to beat down the 
price of others. But there is a confidence that passetk 
this other; which is, to face out a man’s own defects, in 
seeming to conceive that he is best in those things wherein 
he is failing; and, to help that again, to seem on the other 
side that he hath least opinion of himself in those things 
wherein he is best: like as we shall see it commonly in 
poets, that if they show their verses, and you except to 
any, they will say, that that line cost them more labour 
than any of the rest; and presently will seem to disable 
and suspect rather some other line, which they know well 
enough to be the best in the number. But above all, in 
this righting and helping of a man’s self in his own car¬ 
riage, he must take heed he show not himself dismantled, 1 
and exposed to scorn and injury, b}' too much dulceness, 
goodness, and facility of nature ; but show some sparkles 
of liberty, spirit, and edge. Which kind of fortified car¬ 
riage, with a ready rescuing of a man’s self from scorns, is 
sometimes of necessity imposed upon men by somewhat 
in their person or fortune; but it ever succeedeth with 
good felicity. 

28. Another precept of this knowledge is, by all pos¬ 
sible endeavour to frame the mind to be pliant and obe¬ 
dient to occasion; for nothing hindereth men’s fortunes 
so much as this: Idem manehat, neque idem decehat, men 
are where they were, when occasions turn : and therefore 


6 Ovid. A. Am. ii. 662. 




187 


Opportunities not to be let slip. 

to Cato, whom Livy maketh such an architect of fortune, 
he addeth, that he had versatile ingenium? And thereof 
it cometh that these grave solemn w its, which must be 
like themselves, and cannot make departures, have more 
dignity than felicity. But in some it is nature to be 
somewhat viscous and inwrapped, and not easy to turn; 
in some it is a conceit, that is almost a nature, which is, 
that men can hardly make themselves believe that they 
ought to change their course, when they have found good 
by it in former experience. For Machiavel noted wisely, 
how Fabius Maximus w ould have been temporizing still, 
according to his old bias, when the nature of the war was 
altered and required hot pursuit. In some other it is 
want of point and penetration in their judgment, that 
they do not discern when things have a period, but come 
in too late after the occasion; as Demosthenes 8 compareth 
the people of Athens to country fellows, when they play 
in a fence school, that if they have a blow, then they 
remove their weapon to that ward, and not before. In 
some other it is a lothness to leese labours passed, and a 
conceit that they can bring about occasions to their ply; 
and yet in the end, when they see no other remedy, then 
they come to it with disadvantage; as Tarquinius, that 
gave for the third part of Sibylla’s books the treble price, 
w'hen he might at first have had all three for the simple. 
But from whatsoever root or cause this restiveness of 
mind proceedeth, it is a thing most prejudicial; and 
nothing is more politic than to make the wheels of our 
mind concentric and voluble with the wheels of fortune. 

29. Another precept of this knowledge, which hath 
some affinity with that we last spake of, but with differ¬ 
ence, is that which is well expressed, Fatis accede deisque , 9 
that men do not only turn with the occasions, but also 
run with the occasions, and not strain their credit or 
strength to over hard or extreme points; but choose in 
their actions that which is most passable: for this will 
preserve men from foil, not occupy them too much about 
one matter, win opinion of moderation, please the most, 
and make a show of a perpetual felicity in all they under¬ 
take ; which cannot but mightily increase reputation. 

30. Another part of this knowledge seemeth to have 
some repugnancy with the former two, but not as I under- 


7 Livy xxxix. 40. 8 Demosili. Phil. i. 51. 

9 Lucan. viii. 486. Quoted also by Jeremy Taylor. Life of 
Christ, Pref. ad in it. 



188 


Mean to be observed between 


stand it; and it is that which Demosthenes uttereth in 
high terms ; JEt quemadmodum receptum est, ut exercitum 
ducat imperator, sic et a cordatis viris res ipsce ducendce; 
ut quce ipsis videntur, ea gerantur, et non ipsi eventus 
tantum persequi cogantwr? For, if we observe, we shall 
find two differing kinds of sufficiency in managing of 
business : some can make use of occasions aptly and dex¬ 
terously, but plot little; some can urge and pursue their 
own plots well, but cannot accommodate nor take in; 
either of which is very imperfect without the other. 

31. Another part of this knowledge is the observing a 
good mediocrity in the declaring, or not declaring a man’s 
self: for although depth of secrecy, and making way, 
qualis est via navis in mari, (which the French calleth 
sourdes menses, when men set things in work without 
opening themselves at all,) be sometimes both prosperous 
and admirable; yet many times dissimulatio errores parity 
qui dissimulatorem ipsum illaqueant; and therefore, wo 
see the greatest politiques have in a natural and free 
manner professed their desires, rather than been reserved 
and disguised in them. For so we see that Lucius Sylla 
made a kind of profession, that he wished all men happy or 
unhappy , as they stood his friends or enemies. So Caesar, 
when he went first into Gaul, made no scruple to profess 
that he had rather be first in a village, than second at 
Home. 1 2 3 So again, as soon as he had begun the war, we 
see what Cicero saith of him, Alter (meaning of Caesar) 
non recusat, sed quodammodo postulat, ut, ut est, sic appel- 
letur tyrannus? So we may see in a letter of Cicero to 
Atticus, that Augustus Caesar, in his very entrance into 
affairs, when he was a darling of the senate, yet in his 
harangues to the people would swear, Ita parentis honores 
consequi liceat? which was no less than the tyranny; save 
that, to help it, he would stretch forth his hand towards a 
statua of Caesar’s that was erected in the place: whereat 
many men laughed, and wondered, and said, Is it pos¬ 
sible P or, Did you ever hear the like to this P and yet 
thought he meant no hurt; he did it so handsomely and 
ingenuously. And all these were prosperous: whereas 
Pompey, who tended to the same end, but in a more 
dark and dissembling manner, as Tacitus saith of him, 


1 Demosth. Phil. i. 51. 

2 Both anecdotes are from Plutarch. 

3 Cic. ad Att. x. 4. 2. 4 Ad Alt. xvi. 15. 3. 



189 


Openness and Reserve. 

Occultior, non melior , 5 wherein Sallust concurreth, ore 
jprobo, animo inverecundo , 6 made it his design, by infinite 
secret engines, to cast the state into an absolute anarchy 
and confusion, that the state might cast itself into his 
arms for necessity and protection, and so the sovereign 
power be put upon him, and he never seen in it: and 
when he had brought it, as he thought, to that point, 
when he was chosen consul alone, as never any was, yet 
he could make no great matter of it, because men under¬ 
stood him not; but was fain, in the end, to go the beaten 
track of getting arms into his hands, by colour of the 
doubt of Caesar’s designs: so tedious, casual, and unfor¬ 
tunate are these deep dissimulations: whereof, itseemeth, 
Tacitus made his judgment, that they were a cunning of 
an inferior form in regard of true policy; attributing the 
one to Augustus, the other to Tiberius; where, speaking 
of Livia, he saith, Et cum artibus mariti simulatione Jilii 
bene composita : 7 for surely the continual habit of dissimu¬ 
lation is but a weak and sluggish cunning, and not greatly 
politic. 

32. Another precept of this architecture of fortune is, 
to accustom our minds to judge of the proportion or value 
of things, as they conduce and are material to our particu¬ 
lar ends: and that to do substantially, and not superfi¬ 
cially. For we shall find the logical part, as I may term 
it, of some men’s minds good, but the mathematical part 
erroneous; that is, they can well judge of consequences, 
but not of proportions and comparisons, preferring things 
of show and sense before things of substance and effect. 
So some fall in love with access to princes, others with 
popular fame and applause, supposing they are things of 
great purchase: when in many cases they are but matters 
of envy, peril, and impediment. So some measure things 
according to the labour and difficulty, or assiduity, which 
are spent about them; and think, if they be ever moving, 
that they must needs advance and proceed; as Ca 3 sar 
saith in a despising manner of Cato the second, when 
he describeth how laborious and indefatigable he was 
to no great purpose; JECeec omnia magno studio agebat. So 
in most things men are ready to abuse themselves in 
thinking the greatest means to be best, when it should be 
the fittest. 


5 Tacit. Hist. ii. 38. 6 [Sueton.] de cl. Gram. § xv. 

7 Tacit. Annal. v. 1, 



190 Order of means towards Advancement . 

33. As for the true marshalling of men’s pursuits 
towards their fortune, as they are more or less material, 
I hold them to stand thus : first the amendment of their 
own minds. For the remove of the impediments of the 
mind will sooner clear the passages of fortune, than the 
obtaining fortune will remove the impediments of the 
mind. In the second place, I set down wealth and means; 
which I know most men would have placed first, because 
of the general use which it beareth towards all variety of 
occasions. But that opinion I may condemn with like 
reason as Machiavel 8 doth that other, that moneys were 
the sinews of the wars ;• whereas, saith he, the true sinews 
of the wars are the sinews of men’s arms, that is, a valiant, 
populous, and military nation : and he voucheth aptly the 
authority of Solon, who, when Croesus showed him his 
treasury of gold, said to him, that if another came that 
had better iron, he would be master of his gold. In like 
manner it may be truly affirmed, that it is not moneys 
that are the sinews of fortune, but it is the sinews and 
steel of men’s minds, wit, courage, audacity, resolution, 
temper, industry, and the like. In the third place I set 
down reputation, because of the peremptory tides and 
currents it hath; which, if they be not taken in their due 
time, are seldom recovered, it being extreme hard to pla; 
an after game of reputation. And lastly, I place honour 
which is more easily won by any of the other three, muc) 
more by all, than any of them can be purchased by honoui 
To conclude this precept, as there is order and priority in 
matter, so is there in time, the preposterous placing 
whereof is one of the commonest errors: while men fly 
to their ends when they should intend their beginnings, 
and do not take things in order of time as they come on, 
but marshal them according to greatness, and not accord¬ 
ing to instance; not observing the good precept, Quod 
nunc instat agamus . 9 

34. Another precept of this knowledge is not to em¬ 
brace any matters which do occupy too great a quantity 
of time, but to have that sounding in a man’s ears, sed 
fugit interea fugit irreparabile tcmpus .- 1 and that is the 
cause why those which take their course of rising by pro¬ 
fessions of burden, as lawyers, orators, painful divines, 
and the like, are not commonly so politic for their own 


8 Machiav. Disc, on Liv. ii. 10. 

9 Virg. Eel. ix. 66. 1 Georg, iii. 284. 




Moderation and Caution to be used . 19 ] 

fortunes, otherwise than in their ordinary way, because 
they want time to learn particulars, to wait occasions, and 
to devise plots. 

35. Another precept of this knowledge is, to imitate 
nature, which doth nothing in vain ; which surely a man 
may do if he do well interlace his business, and bend not 
his mind too much upon that which he principally in- 
tendeth. For a man ought in every particular action so 
to carry the motions of his mind, and so to have one thing 
under another, as if he cannot have that he seeketh in the 
best degree, yet to have it in a second, or so in a third; 
and if he can have no part of that which he purposed, yet 
to turn the use of it to somewhat else ; and if he cannot 
make anything of it for the present, yet to make it as a 
seed of somewhat in time to come ; and if he can contrive 
no effect or substance from it, yet to win some good 
opinion by it, or the like. So that he should exact account 
of himself of every action, to reap somewhat, and not to 
stand amazed and confused if he fail of that he chiefly 
meant: for nothing is more impolitic than to mind actions 
wholly one by one. For he that doth so leeseth infinite 
occasions which intervene, and are many times more 
proper and propitious for somewhat that he shall need 
gfterwards, than for that which he urgeth for the present; 
and therefore men must be perfect in that rude, ILcec 
Qjportet facere, et ilia non omittere? 

36. Another precept of this knowledge is, not to engage 
a man’s self peremptorily in any thing, though it seem not 
liable to accident; but ever to nave a window to fly out at, 
or a w T ay to retire: following the wisdom in the ancient 
fable of the two frogs, which consulted when their plash 
w r as dry whither they should go; and the one moved to go 
down into a pit, because it was not likely the water would 
dry there ; but the other answered, True, but if it do, how 
shall we get out again ? 

37. Another precept of this knowledge is, that ancient 
precept of Bias, construed not to any point of perfidious¬ 
ness, but only to caution and moderation, Et ama tan - 
quam inimicus futurus et odi tanquam amaturus ; * 3 for it 
utterly betrayeth all utility for men to embark themselves 
too far in unfortunate friendships, troublesome spleens, 
and childish and humorous envies or emulations. 

38. But I continue this beyond the measure of an 


8 Matth. xxiii. 23. 

3 Aristot. Rhet. ii. 13. 4. and cf. Cic. Lael. xvi. 



192 


All evil arts to be avoided. 


example; led, because I would not have sucli knowledges, 
which I note as deficient, to be thought things imaginative 
or in the air, or an observation or two much made of, but 
things of bulk and mass, whereof an end is hardlier made 
than a beginning. It must be likewise conceived, that in 
these points which I mention and set down, they are far 
from complete tractates of them, but only as small pieces 
for patterns. And lastly, no man, I suppose, will think 
that I mean fortunes are not obtained without all this 
ado; for I know they come tumbling into some men’s 
laps; and a number obtain good fortunes by diligence in 
a plain way, little intermeddling, and keeping themselves 
from gross errors. 

39. But as Cicero, when he setteth down an idea of a 
perfect orator, doth not mean that every pleader should 
be such; and so likewise, when a prince or a courtier hath 
been described by such as have handled those subjects, 
the mould hath used to be made according to the perfec¬ 
tion of the art, and not according to common practice : so 
I understand it, that it ought to be done in the description 
of a politic man, I mean politic for his own fortune. 

40. But it must be remembered all this while, that the 
precepts which we have set down are of that kind which 
may be counted and called Bonce Artes. As for evil arts, if 
a man would set down for himself that principle of Ma- 
chiavel, 4 5 that a man seek not to attain virtue itself, hut the 
appearance only thereof; because the credit of virtue is a 
help, hut the use of it is cumber: or that other of his prin¬ 
ciples, that he presuppose , that men are not fitly to he 
wrought otherwise hut by fear; and therefore that he seek 
to have every man obnoxious, low, and in strait, which the 
Italians call seminar spine, to sow thorns: or that other 
principle, contained in the verse which Cicero citeth, Ca- 
dant amici, dummodo inimici intercidant? as the triumvirs, 
which sold, every one to other, the lives of their friends 
for the deaths of their enemies: or that other protestation 
of L. Catilina, to set on fire and trouble states, to the end 
to fish in droumy waters, and to unwrap their fortunes, 
Ego si quid in fortunis meis excitatum sit incendium, id 
non aqua sed ruina restmguam : 6 or that other principle 
of Lysander, that children are to he deceived with comfits, 
and men with oaths: and the like evil and corrupt posi¬ 
tions, whereof, as in all things, there are more in number 


4 Prince , c. 17,18. 

5 Pro Reg. Deiot. ix. 25. 6 Cic. pro Mur. xxv. 51. 



193 


A Portion of our Time due to God. 

than of the good: certainly with these dispensations from 
the laws of charity and integrity, the pressing of a man’s 
fortune may be more hasty and compendious. But it is 
in life as it is in ways, the shortest way is commonly the 
foulest, and surely the fairer way is not much about. 

41. But men, if they be in their own power, and do 
bear and sustain themselves, and be not carried away with 
a whirlwind or tempest of ambition, ought, in the pursuit 
of their own fortune, to set before their eyes not only that 
general map of the world, that all things are vanity and 
vexation of spirit, 1 but many other more particular cards 
and directions : chiefly that—that being without well-being 
is a curse—and the greater being the greater curse ; and 
that all virtue is most rewarded, and all wickedness most 
punished in itself: according as the poet saith excellently : 
Quae vobis, quae digna, viri, pro laudibus istis 
Praemia posse rear soivi ? pulcherrima primum 
Dii Moresque dabunt vestri. 8 

And so of the contrary. And, secondly, they ought to 
look up to the eternal providence and divine judgment, 
which often subverteth the wisdom of evil plots and ima¬ 
ginations, according to that Scripture, He hath conceived 
mischief, and shall bring forth a vain thing . 9 And 
although men should refrain themselves from injury and 
evil arts, yet this incessant and Sabbathless pursuit of a 
man’s fortune leaveth not the tribute which we owe to 
God of our time ; who we see demandeth a tenth of our 
substance, and a seventh, which is more strict, of our 
time : and it is to small purpose to have an erected face 
towards heaveu, and a perpetual grovelling spirit upon 
earth, eating dust, as doth the serpent, Atque ajfigit humo 
divines jparticulam aura} And if any man flatter himself 
that he will employ his fortune well, though he should 
obtain it ill, as was said concerning Augustus Csesar, and 
after of Septimus Severus, that either they should never 
have been born, or else they should never have died, they 
did so much mischief in the pursuit and ascent of their 
greatness, and so much good when they were established; 
yet these compensations and satisfactions are good to be 
used, but never good to be purposed. And lastly, it is 
not amiss for men in their race toward their fortune, to 
cool themselves a little with that conceit which is ele¬ 
gantly expressed by the Emperor Charles the Fifth, in his 


* Eccl. ii. ] 1. 
0 Job xv. 35. 


o 


8 Virg. AEn. ix. 252. 
1 Hor. Sat. ii. 2. 79. 




194 


"Recondite nature of Government. 

instructions to the king his son, That fortune hath some¬ 
what of the nature of a woman , that if she he too much 
ivooed, she is the farther off. But this last is but a remedy 
for those whose tastes are corrupted: let men rather build 
upon that foundation which is a corner-stone of divinity 
and philosophy, wherein they join close, namely, that 
same Trimum qucerite. For divinity saith, Primum quce- 
rite regnum Dei, et ista omnia adjicientur vohis : 2 and 
philosophy saith, Primum qucerite bona animi; ccetera 
aut aderunt, et non oherunt. And although the human 
foundation hath somewhat of the sands, as we see in 
M. Brutus, when he brake forth into that speech, 

Te colui, Virtus, ut rem ; at tu nomen inane es ; 3 
yet the divine foundation is upon the rock. But this may 
serve for a taste of that knowledge which I noted as 
deficient. 

42. Concerning Government, 4 it is a part of knowledge 
secret and retired, in both these respects in which things 
are deemed secret; for some things are secret because they 
are hard to know, and some because they are not fit to 
utter. We see all governments are obscure and invisible : 

Totamque infusa per artus 
Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet. 5 

Such is the description of governments. We see the 
government of God over the world is hidden, inasmuch as 
it seemeth to participate of much irregularity and confu¬ 
sion : the government of the soul in moving the body is 
inward and profound, and the passages thereof hardly to 
be reduced to demonstration. Again, the wisdom of anti¬ 
quity, (the shadows whereof are in the poets,) in the 
description of torments and pains, next unto the crime of 
rebellion, which was the giants’ offence, doth detest the 
offence of futility, as in Sisyphus and Tantalus. 6 But this 
was meant of particulars: nevertheless even unto the 

8 Matth. vi. 33. 

3 w rXrjpov aptTrj, Xoyog dp ’ ija9’, iyw de ae, 

<ng epyov ijoicovv’ <rv S' ap’ tdovXtvtg rvxy. 

Dio Cass, xlvii. 49. 

4 The remaining part of this chapter is omitted in the Latin 
edition, and in its place are inserted two Dissertations; the first a 
treatise on the Enlargement of the Bounds of Empire (Consul Pa - 

ludatns, sive de proferendis Imperii finibus ), and the second a 
sketch in ninety-seven aphorisms of the principles of universal 
law (Idea JustUiee Universalis sive de Fontibus Juris). 

3 Virg. Mn. vi. 726. 6 Vid. Pind. 01. 1. 55. 



195 


Want of Statesmanlike Treatises on Law. 

general rules and discourses of policy and government 
there is due a reverent and reserved handling. 

43. But contrariwise, in the governors toward the 
governed, all things ought as far as the frailty of man 
permitteth, to be manifest and revealed. For so it is 
expressed in the Scriptures touching the government of 
God, that this globe, which seemeth to us a dark and shady 
body, is in the view of God as crystal: Et in conspectu 
sedis tanquam mare vitreum simile crystallo. 7 So unto 
princes and states, especially towards wise senates and 
councils, the natures and dispositions of the people, their 
conditions and necessities, their factions and combinations, 
their animosities and discontents, ought to be, in regard 
of the variety of their intelligences, the wisdom of their 
observations, and the height of their station where they 
keep sentinel, in great part clear and transparent. Where¬ 
fore, considering that I write to a King that is a master of 
this science, and is so well assisted, I think it decent to 
pass over this part in silence, as willing to obtain the cer¬ 
tificate which one of the ancient philosophers aspired 
unto; who being silent, when others contended to make 
demonstration of their abilities by speech, desired it might 
be certified for his part, that there was one that knew how 
to hold his peace. 

44. Notwithstanding, for the more public part of 
government, which is laws, I think good to note only one 
deficiency ; which is, that all those which have written of 
laws, have written either as philosophers or as lawyers, 
and none as statesmen. As for the philosophers, they 
make imaginary laws for imaginary commonwealths ; and 
their discourses are as the stars, which give little light, 
because they are so high. For the lawyers, they write 
according to the states where they live, what is received 
law, and not what ought to be law: for the wisdom of a 
lawmaker is one, and of a lawyer is another. For there 
are in nature certain fountains of justice, whence all civil 
laws are derived but as streams: and like as waters do 
take tinctures and tastes from the soils through which 
they run, so do civil laws vary according to the regions 
and governments where they are planted, though they 
proceed from the same fountains. Again, the wisdom of 
a lawmaker consisteth not only in a platform of justice, 
but in the application thereof; taking into consideration 
by what means laws may be made certain, and what are 


7 Rev. iv. 6. 
o 2 



196 Considerations for Legislators in framing Laws. 

the causes and remedies of the doubtfulness and incer¬ 
tainty of law; by what means laws may be made apt and 
easy to be executed, and what are the impediments and 
remedies in the execution of laws; what influence laws 
touching private right of meum and tuum have into the ? 
public state, and how they may be made apt and agree-1 
able ,* how laws are to be penned and delivered, whether ! 
in texts or in acts, brief or large, with preambles, or 
without; how they are to be pruned and reformed from; 
time to time, and what is the best means to keep them. 
from being too vast in volumes, or too full of multiplicity 
and crossness; how they are to be expounded, when upon 
causes emergent and judicially discussed, and when upon [ 
responses and conferences touching general points ori 
questions; how they are to be pressed, rigorously or _ 
tenderly; how they are to be mitigated by equity and 
good conscience, and whether discretion and strict law 5 
are to be mingled in the same courts, or kept apart in 
several courts ; again, how the practice, profession, and 
erudition of law is to be censured and governed; and 
many other points touching the administration, and, as I ; 
may term it, animation of laws. Upon which I insist the 1 
less, because I purpose, if God give me leave, (having! 
begun a work of this nature in aphorisms,) to propound I 
it hereafter, noting it in the mean time for deficient. 

45. And for your Majesty’s laws of England, I could* 
say much of their dignity, and somewhat of their defect ;| 
but they cannot but excel the civil laws in fitness for the I 
government: for the civil law was non hos qucesitum munusX 
in usus; 8 it was not made for the countries which it! 
governeth: hereof I cease to speak, because I will not ■ 
intermingle matter of action with matter of general I 
learning. 


Conclusion XXIV. 'T'HUS have I concluded this 

of the Review J- portion of learning touching 

of Philoso - civil knowledge; and with civil knowledge 
phy in have concluded human philosophy; and with 

General. human philosophy, philosophy in general. 

And being now at some pause, looking back 
into that I have passed through, this writing seemeth to 
me, si nunquam fallit imago , 9 (as far as a man can judge 
of his own work,) not much better than that noise or 
sound which musicians make while they are tuning their 


Virg. uEn. iv. 647. 


Virg. Eel. ii. 27. 



197 


Future Prospects of Learning. 

instruments: which is nothing pleasant to hear, but yet is 
a cause why the music is sweeter afterwards: so have I 
been content to tune the instruments of the Muses, that 
they may play that have better hands. And surely, when 
I set before me the condition of these times, in which 
learning hath made her third visitation or circuit in all 
the qualities thereof—as the excellency and vivacity of 
the wits of this age ; the noble helps and lights which we 
have by the travails of ancient writers ; the art of printing, 
which communicateth books to men of all fortunes; the 
openness of the world by navigation, which hath disclosed 
multitudes of experiments, and a mass of natural history; 
the leisure wherewith these times abound, not employing 
men so generally in civil business, as the states of Grsecia 
did, in respect of their popularity, and the state of Home, 
in respect of the greatness of their monarchy; the present 
disposition of these times at this instant to peace; the 
consumption of all that ever can be said in controversies 
of religion, which have so much diverted men from other 
sciences ; the perfection of your Majesty’s learning, which 
as a Phoenix may call whole vollies of wits to follow you; 
and the inseparable propriety of time, which is ever more 
and more to disclbse truth—I cannot but be raised to this 
persuasion that this third period of time will far surpass 
that of the Grecian and Homan learning: only if men will 
know their own strength, and their own weakness both; 
and take one from the other, light of invention, and not 
fire of contradiction; and esteem of the inquisition of 
truth as of an enterprise, and not as of a quality or orna¬ 
ment; and employ wit and magnificence to things of 
worth and excellency, and not to things vulgar and of 
popular estimation. As for my labours, if any man shall 
please himself or others in the reprehension of them, they 
shall make that ancient and patient request, Verbera, sed 
audi ; l let men reprehend them, so they observe and 
weigh them: for the appeal is lawful, though it may be it 
shall not be needful, from the first cogitations of men to 
their second, and from the nearer times to the times farther 
off. Now let us come to that learning, which both the 
former times were not so blessed as to know, sacred and 
inspired divinity, the Sabbath and port of all men’s labours 
and peregrinations. 


1 Themistocles to Eurybiades, Plat. Reg. et Imper. Apop. 






198 Knowledge of God's Will grounded upon his Word. 


Of Theology. 


XXV. 1. r PHE 2 prerogative of God ex- 
JL tendeth as well to the reason 


as to the will of man; so that as we are to obey His law, 
though we find a reluetation in our will, so we are to be¬ 
lieve His word, though we find a reluetation in our reason. 
For if we believe only that which is agreeable to our sense, 
we give consent to the matter, and not to the author; which 
is no more than we would do towards a suspected and dis¬ 
credited witness; but that faith which was accounted to 
Abraham for righteousness was of such a point as whereat 
Sarah laughed, 3 who therein was an image of natural reason. 

Howbeit, if we will truly consider it, more worthy it is 
to believe than to know as we now know. For in know¬ 


ledge man’s mind suffereth from sense; but in belief it 
suffereth from spirit, such one as it holdeth for more 
authorized than itself, and so suffereth from the worthier 
agent. Otherwise it is of the state of man glorified; for 
then faith shall cease, and we shall know as we are known. 

Wherefore we conclude that sacred theology, (which in 
our idiom we call divinity,) is grounded only upon the word 
and oracle of God, and not upon the light of nature : for it 
is written Cceli enarrant gloriam Dei; 4 but it is not written, 
Coeli enarrant voluntatem Dei: but of t*hat it is said, Ad 
legem et testimonium: si non fecerint secundum verhum 
istud , 5 &c. This holdeth not only in those points of faith 
which concern the mysteries of the deity, of the Creation, 
of the Redemption, but likewise those which concern the 
law moral truly interpreted : Love your enemies: do good 
to them that hate you; he like to your heavenly Father , that 
suffereth his rain to fall upon the just and unjust. 6 To this 
it ought to be applauded, nec vox hominem sonat : T it is a 
voice beyond the light of nature. So we see the heathen 
poets, when they fall upon a libertine passion, do still 
expostulate with laws and moralities, as if they were 
opposite and malignant to nature; Ft quod natura remit- 
tit , invidajura negant . 8 So said Dendamis the Indian unto 
Alexander’s messengers, That he had heard somewhat of 
Pythagoras, and some other of the wise men of Grcecia, and 
that he held them for excellent men: hut that they had a 
fault , which teas that they had in too great reverence and 


2 The Ninth Book of the Latin Edition. 

3 Vid. Gen. xviii. 4 Ps. xix. 1. 

5 Isai. viii. 20. 6 Matth. v. 44. 

* 2 Virg. Mn. 1. 328. 8 Ovid. Met. x. 330. 



Reason not excluded from Religion , 199 

veneration a thing which they called law and manners. So 
it must be confessed, that a great part of the law moral is 
of that perfection, whereunto the light of nature cannot 
aspire: how then is it that man is said to have, by the light 
and law of nature, some notions and conceits of virtue and 
vice, justice and wrong, good and evil ? Thus, because the 
light of nature is used in two several senses ; the one, that 
which springeth from reason, sense, induction, argument, 
according to the laws of heaven and earth; the other, that 
which is imprinted upon the spirit of man by an inward 
instinct, according to the law of conscience, which is a 
sparkle of the purity of his first estate; in which latter 
sense only he is participant of some light and discerning 
touching the perfection of the moral law : but how ? suffi¬ 
cient to check the vice, but not to inform the duty. So then 
the doctrine of religion, as well moral as mystical, is not to 
be attained but by inspiration and revelation from G-od. 

. 2. The use, notwithstanding, of reason in spiritual 
things, and the latitude thereof, is very great and general: 
for it is not for nothing that the apostle calleth religion 
our reasonable service of God; insomuch as the very 
ceremonies and figures of the old law were full of reason 
and signification, much more than the ceremonies of 
idolatry and magic, that are full of non-significants and 
surd characters. But most especially the Christian faith, 
as in all things, so in this deserveth to be highly magnified; 
holding and preserving the golden mediocrity in this point 
between the law of the heathen and the law of Mahomet, 
which have embraced the two extremes. For the religion 
of the heathen had no constant belief or confession, but left 
all to the liberty of argument; and the religion of Mahomet, 
on the other side, interdicteth argument altogether: the 
one having the very face of error, and the other of impos¬ 
ture : whereas the faith doth both admit and reject dispu¬ 
tation with difference. 

3. The use of human reason in religion is of two sorts : 
the former, in the conception and apprehension of the 
mysteries of God to us revealed; the other, in the inferring 
and deriving of doctrine and direction thereupon. The 
former extendeth to the mysteries themselves ; but how ? 
by way of illustration, and not by way of argument: the 
latter consisteth indeed of probation and argument. In the 
former, we see, God vouchsafeth to descend to our capacity, 
in the expressing of his mysteries in sort as may be sensible 
unto us ; and doth graft his Revelations and holy doctrine 
upon the notions of our reason, and applieth his inspira- 


200 but its right TJse hitherto not accurately laid down. 

tions to open our understanding, as the form of the key 
to the ward of the lock: for the latter, there is allowed us 
a use of reason and argument, secondary and respective, 
although not original and absolute. For after the articles 
and principles of religion are placed and exempted from 
examination of reason, it is then permitted unto us to make 
derivations and inferences from, and according to the 
analogy of them, for our better direction. In nature this 
holdeth not; for both the principles are examinable by 
induction, though not by a medium or syllogism; and 
besides, those principles or first positions have no discord¬ 
ance with that reason which draweth down and deduceth 
the inferior positions. But yet it holdeth not in religion 
alone, but in many knowledges, both of greater and 
smaller nature, namely, wherein there are not only jposita 
but jplacita; for in such there can be no use of absolute 
reason. We see it familiarly in games of wit, as chess, or 
the like : the draughts and first laws of the game are posi¬ 
tive, but how ? merely ad jplacitum, and not examinable by 
reason; but then how to direct our play thereupon with 
best advantage to win the game, is artificial and rational. 
So in human laws, there be many grounds and maxims 
which are jplacita juris, positive upon authority, and not 
upon reason, and therefore not to be disputed : but what 
is most just, not absolutely but relatively, and according to 
those maxims, that affordeth a long field of disputation. 
Such therefore is that secondary reason, which hath place 
in divinity, which is grounded upon the placets of God. 

4. Here therefore I note this deficiency, that there hath 
not been, to my understanding, sufficiently inquired and 
handled the true limits and use of reason in spiritual things, 
as a kind of divine dialectic: which for that it is not done, 
it seemeth to me a thing usual, by pretext of true con¬ 
ceiving that which is revealed, to search and mine into that 
which is not revealed; and by pretext of enucleating infer¬ 
ences and contradictories, to examine that which is positive: 
the one sort fallinginto the error of Nicodemus, demanding 
to have things made more sensible than it pleaseth God to 
reveal them, Quomodo jpossit homo nasci cum sit senex ? 9 the 
other sort into the error of the disciples, which were 
scandalized at a show of contradiction, Quid est hoc quod 
dicit nobis? Modicum, et non videbitis me; et iterum, 
modicum, et videbitis me, &C . 1 

5. Upon this I have insisted the more, in regard of 


Job. iii. 4. 


1 Job. xvi. 17. 



201 


Divisions of Theology . 

the great and blessed use thereof; for this point, well 
laboured and defined of, would in my judgment be an 
opiate to stay and bridle not only the vanity of curious 
speculations, wherewith the schools labour, but the fury of 
controversies, wherewith the church laboureth. For it 
cannot but open men’s eyes, to see that many controversies 
do merely pertain to that which is either not revealed, or 
positive; and that many others do grow upon weak and 
obscure inferences or derivations: which latter sort, if men 
would revive the blessed style of that great doctor of the 
Gentiles, would be carried thus, ego, non dominusf and 
again, secundum consilium meum, in opinions and counsels, 
and not in positions and oppositions. But men are now 
over-ready to usurp the style, non ego, sed dominus; and 
not so only, but to bind it with the thunder and denuncia¬ 
tion of curses and anathemas, to the terror of those which 
have not sufficiently learned out of Solomon, that the 
causeless curse shall not come? 

6. Divinity hath two principal parts; the matter in¬ 
formed or revealed, and the nature of the information or 
revelation: and with the latter we will begin, because it 
hath most coherence with that which we have now last 
handled. The nature of the information consisteth of three 
branches; the limits of the information, the sufficiency of 
the information, and the acquiring or obtaining the infor¬ 
mation. Unto the limits of the information belong these 
considerations; how far forth particular persons continue 
to be inspired; how far forth the Church is inspired; how 
far forth reason may be used: the last point whereof I have 
noted as deficient. Unto the sufficiency of the information 
belong two considerations ; what points of religion are fun¬ 
damental, and what perfective, being matter of further 
building and perfection upon one and the same foundation; 
and again, how the gradations of light, according to the dis¬ 
pensation of times, are material to the sufficiency of belief. 

7. Here again I may rather give it in advice, than note 
it as deficient, that the points fundamental, and the points 
of farther perfection only, ought to be with piety and 
wisdom distinguished: a subject tending to much like end 
as that I noted before ; for as that other were like to abate 
the number of controversies, so this is likely to abate the 
heat of many of them. We see Moses when he saw the 
Israelite and the ^Egyptian fight, he did not say, Why 
strive you ? but drew his sword and slew the ^Egyptian: 


2 1 Cor. vii. 12. 40. 


3 Prov. xxvi. 2. 



202 Doctrine rests upon true Interpretation of Scripture. 

but when he saw the two Israelites fight, he said You are 
brethren, why strive you ? 4 If the point of doctrine be an 
iE<ryptian, it must be slain by the sword of the spirit, and 
not reconciled; but if it be an Israelite, though in the 
wrong, then, Why strive you ? We see of the fundamental 
points, our Saviour penneth the league thus, He that is not 
with us, is against usf but of points not fundamental, thus, 
He that is not against us, is with us. 6 So we see the coat 
of our Saviour was entire without seam, 7 and so is the 
doctrine of the Scriptures in itself; but the garment of the 
Church was of divers colours, s and yet not divided: we see 
the chaff may and ought to be severed from the corn in the 
ear, but the tares may not be pulled up from the corn in 
the field. 9 So as it is a thing of great use well to define 
what, and of what latitude those points are, which do make 
men merely aliens and disincorporate from the Church of 
Glod. 

8. For the obtaining of the information, it resteth upon 
the true and sound interpretation of the Scriptures, which 
are the fountains of the water of life. The interpretations 
of the Scriptures are of two sorts; methodical, and solute 
or at large. For this divine water, 1 which excelleth so 
much that of Jacob’s Well, is drawn forth much in the 
same kind as natural water useth to be out of wells and 
fountains; either it is first forced up into a cistern, and 
from thence fetched and derived for use; or else it is drawn 
and received in buckets and vessels immediately where il 
springeth. The former sort whereof, though it seem to be 
the more ready, yet in my judgment is more subject tc 
corrupt. • This is that method which hath exhibited untc 
us the scholastical divinity; whereby divinity hath been 
reduced into an art, as into a cistern, and the streams ol 
doctrine or positions fetched and derived from thence. 

9. In this men have sought three things, a summary 
brevity, a compacted strength, and a complete perfection 
whereof the two first they fail to find, and the last the} 
ought not to seek. For as to brevity we see, in all summary 
methods, while men purpose to abridge, they give caus< 
to dilate. For the sum or abridgment by contraction be 
cometh obscure; the obscurity requireth exposition, am 
the exposition is diduced into large commentaries, or int< 


4 Exod. ii. 11—14. 5 Matth. xii. 30. 

e Luke ix. 50. 7 Job. xix. 23. 

8 See Ps. xlv. 10, (Prayer Book version.) 

9 Matth. xiii. 29. 1 Joh. iv. 13, 14. 



Vanity of attempts at Perfection in Divinity . 203 

common places and titles, which grow to he more vast 
than the original writings, whence the sum was at first 
extracted. So, we see, the volumes of the schoolmen are 
greater much than the first writings of the fathers, whence 
the Master of the Sentences made his sum or collection. 
So, in like manner, the volumes of the modern doctors of 
the civil law exceed those of the ancient jurisconsults, of 
which Tribonian compileth the digest. So as this course 
of sums and commentaries is that which doth infallibly 
make the body of sciences more immense in quantity, 
and more base in substance. 

10. And for strength, it is true that knowledges reduced 
into exact methods have a show of strength, in that each 
part seemeth to support and sustain the other; but this 
is more satisfactory than substantial: like unto buildings 
which stand by architecture and compaction, which are 
more subject to ruin than those which are built more strong 
in their several parts, though less compacted. But it is 
plain that the more you recede from your grounds, the 
weaker do you conclude : and as in nature, the more you 
remove yourself from particulars, the greater peril of error 
you do incur: so much more in divinity, the more you 
recede from the Scriptures by inferences and consequences, 
the more weak and dilute are your positions. 

11. And as for perfection or completeness in divinity, 
it is not to be sought; which makes this course of artificial 
divinity the more suspect. For he that will reduce a know¬ 
ledge into an art, will make it round and uniform: but in 
divinity many things must be left abrupt, and concluded 
with this : O altitudo sapientia et scientice Dei! quam in- 
comprehensibilia sunt judicia ejus, et non investigabiles via 
ejus P So again the apostle saith, Ex parte scimus : 3 and 
to have the form of a total, where there is but matter for 
a part, cannot be without supplies by supposition and pre¬ 
sumption. And therefore I conclude, that the true use of 
these sums and methods hath place in institutions or intro¬ 
ductions preparatory unto knowledge : but in them, or by 
deducement from them, to handle the main body and sub¬ 
stance of a knowledge, is in all sciences prejudicial, and in 
divinity dangerous. 

12. As to the interpretation of the Scriptures solute 
and at large, there have been divers kinds introduced and 
clevised; some of them rather curious and unsafe than 
sober and warranted. Notwithstanding, thus much must 


8 Rom. xi. 33. 


3 1 Cor. xiii. 9. 




204 


God's Word to he expounded soberly; 

be confessed, that the Scriptures being given by inspira¬ 
tion, and not by human reason, do differ from all other 
books in the author: which, by consequence, doth draw on 
some difference to be used by the expositor. For the 
inditer of them did know four things which no man attains 
to know; which are, the mysteries of the kingdom of 
glory, the perfection of the laws of nature, the secrets of 
the heart of man, and the future succession of all ages. 
For as to the first it is said, He that presseth into the light, 
shall be oppressed of the glory. And again, No man shall 
see my face and live. 4 To the second, When he prepared 
the heavens I was present, when by law and compass he 
inclosed the deep. h To the third, Neither was it needful 
that any should bear witness to him, of man, for he Icneiv well 
what was in man . 6 And to the last, From the beginning 
are known to the Lord all his works? 

13. From the former of these two have been drawn 
certain senses and expositions of Scriptures, which had 
need be contained within the bounds of sobriety; the one 
anagogical, and the other philosophical. But as to the 
former, man is not to prevent his time : Vidimus nunc per 
speculum in cenigmate tunc autem facie ad faciem : * 8 wherein, 
nevertheless, there seemeth to be a liberty granted, as far 
forth as the polishing of this glass, or some moderate ex¬ 
plication to this senigma. But to press too far into it, 
cannot but cause a dissolution and overthrow of the spirit 
of man. For in the body there are three degrees of that 
we receive into it, aliment, medicine, and poison; whereof 
aliment is that which the nature of man can perfectly alter 
and overcome : medicine is that which is partly converted 
by nature, and partly converteth nature; and poison is that 
which worketh wholly upon nature, without that, that 
nature can in any part work upon it. So in the mind, what¬ 
soever knowledge reason cannot at all work upon and 
convert is a mere intoxication, and endangereth a dissolu¬ 
tion of the mind and understanding. 

14. But for the latter, it hath been extremely set on 
foot of late time by the school of Paracelsus, and some 
others, that have pretended to find the truth of all natural 
philosophy in the Scriptures ; scandalizing and traducing 
all other philosophy as heathenish and profane. But there 
is no such enmity between God’s word and His works 
neither do they give honour to the Scriptures, as they 


5 Prov. viii. 27. 6 Joh. ii. 25. 

8 1 Cor. xiii. 12. 


4 Exod. xxxiii. 20. 

7 Acts xv. 18. 



205 


is addressed to the Hearts of Men ; 

suppose, but much imbase them. For to seek heaven and 
earth in the word of God, (whereof it is said, Heaven and 
earth shall pass, hut my toord shall not pass, 9 ) is to seek 
temporary things amongst eternal: and as to seek divinity 
in philosophy is to seek the living amongst the dead, so to 
seek philosophy in divinity is to seek the dead amongst 
the living: neither are the pots or lavers, whose place was 
in the outward part of the temple, to be sought in the 
holiest place of all, where the ark of the testimony was 
seated. And again, the scope or purpose of the spirit of 
God is not to express matters of nature in the Scriptures, 
otherwise than in passage, and for application to man’s 
capacity, and to matters moral or divine. And it is a true 
rule, auctoris aliud agentis parva auctoritas; for it were a 
strange conclusion, if a man should use a similitude for 
ornament or illustration sake, borrowed from nature or 
history according to vulgar conceit, as of a basilisk, an 
unicorn, a centaur, a Briareus, an hydra, or the like, that 
therefore he must needs be thought to affirm the matter 
thereof positively to be true. To conclude, therefore, 
these two interpretations, the one by reduction or senig- 
matical, the other philosophical or physical, which have 
been received and pursued in imitation of the rabbins and 
cabalists, are to be confined with a noli altum sapere, sed 
time} 

15. But the two latter points, known to God and un¬ 
known to man, touching the secrets of the heart, and the 
successions of time, do make a just and sound difference 
between the manner of the exposition of the Scriptures 
and all other books. For it is an excellent observation 
which hath been made upon the answers of our Saviour 
Christ to many of the questions which were propounded 
to him, how that they are impertinent to the state of the 
question demanded; the reason whereof is, because, not 
being like man, which knows man’s thoughts by his words, 
but knowing man’s thoughts immediately, he never an¬ 
swered their words, but their thoughts : much in the like 
manner it is with the Scriptures, which being written to 
the thoughts of men, and to the succession of all ages, 
with a foresight of all heresies, contradictions, differing 
estates of the church, yea and particularly of the elect, 
are not to be interpreted only according to the latitude of 
the proper sense of the place, and respectively towards 
that present occasion whereupon the words were uttered, 


9 Mattli. xxiv. 35. 


Rom. xi. 20. 



206 generally contains an inner Meaning. 

or in precise congruity or contexture with the words 
before or after, or in contemplation of the principal scope 
of the place ; but have in themselves, not only totally or 
collectively, but distributively in clauses and words, in¬ 
finite springs and streams of doctrine to water the church 
in every part. And therefore as the literal sense is, as it 
were, the main stream or river; so the moral sense chiefly, 
and sometimes the allegorical or typical, are they whereof 
the church hath most use; not that I wish men to be 
bold in allegories, or indulgent or light in allusions: but 
that I do much condemn that interpretation of the Scrip¬ 
ture which is only after the manner as men use to interpret 
a profane book. 

16. In this part, touching the exposition of the Scrip¬ 
tures, I can report no deficience; but by way of remem¬ 
brance this I will add: in perusing books of divinity, I 
find many books of controversies, and many of common¬ 
places and treaties, a mass of positive divinity, as it is 
made an art: a number of sermons and lectures, and 
many prolix commentaries upon the Scriptures, with har¬ 
monies and concordances: but that form of writing in 
divinity which in my judgment is of all others most rich 
and precious, is positive divinity, collected upon particular 
texts of Scriptures in brief observations; not dilated 
into commonplaces, not chasing after controversies, not 
reduced into method of art; a thing abounding in ser- 
mofis, which will vanish, but defective in books which will 
remain; and a thing wherein this age excelleth. For I 
am persuaded, (and I may speak it with an absit invidia 
verbo, and no ways in derogation of antiquity, but as in a 
good emulation between the vine and the olive,) that if the 
choice and best of those observations upon texts of Scrip¬ 
tures, which have been made dispersedly in Sermons 
within this your Majesty’s island of Britain by the space 
of these forty years and more, leaving out the largeness of 
exhortations and applications thereupon, had been set 
down in a continuance, it had been the best work in 
divinity which had been written since the Apostles’ times. 

17. The matter informed by divinity is of two kinds ; 
matter of belief and truth of opinion, and matter of service 
and adoration; which is also judged and directed by the 
former: the one being as the internal soul of religion, and 
the other as the external body thereof. And therefore 
the heathen religion was not only a worship of idols, but 
the whole religion was an idol in itself; for it had no soul, 
that is, no certainty of belief or confession: as a man may 


207 


Of faith; Morals ; 

well think, considering the chief doctors of their church 
were the poets : and the reason was, because the heathen 
gods were no jealous gods, but were glad to be admitted 
into part, as they had reason. Neither did they respect 
the pureness of heart, so they might have external honour 
and rites. 

18. But out of these two do result and issue four main 
branches of divinity; faith, manners, liturgy, and govern¬ 
ment. Faith containeth the doctrine of the nature of 
God, of the attributes of God, and of the works of God. 
The nature of God consisteth of three persons in unity of 
Godhead. The attributes of God are either common to 
the Deity, or respective to the persons. The works of 
God summary are two, that of the creation and that of 
the redemption; and both these works, as in total they 
appertain to the unity of the Godhead, so in their parts 
they refer to the three persons : that of the creation, in 
the mass of the matter, to the Father; in the disposi¬ 
tion of the form, to the Son; and in the continuance and 
conservation of the being, to the Holy Spirit. So that of 
the redemption, in the election and counsel, to the 
Father; in the whole act and consummation to the Son; 
and in the application, to the Holy Spirit; for by the 
Holy Ghost was Christ conceived in flesh, and by the 
Holy Ghost are the elect regenerate in spirit. This work 
likewise we consider either effectually, in the elect; or 
privately in the reprobate; or according to appearance, in 
the visible church. 

19. For manners, the doctrine thereof is contained in 
the law, which discloseth sin. The law itself is divided, 
according to the edition thereof, into the law of nature, 
the law T moral, and the law positive; and according to the 
style, into negative and affirmative, prohibitions and com¬ 
mandments. Sin, in the matter and subject thereof, is 
divided according to the commandments; in the form 
thereof, it referreth to the three persons in Deity : sins of 
infirmity against the Father, whose more special attribute 
is power; sins of ignorance against the Son, whose attri¬ 
bute is wisdom; and sins of malice against the Holy 
Ghost, whose attribute is grace or love. 2 In the motions 
of it, it either moveth to the right hand or to the left; 
either to blind devotion, or to profane and libertine trans¬ 
gression ; either in imposing restraint where God granteth 


2 For a truer division of the Attributes of tbe Godhead, see 
Hooker v. 56. 5. 




208 


Church Service, and Government. 

liberty, or in taking liberty where God imposeth restraint. 
In the degrees and progress of it, it divideth itself into 
thought, word, or act. And in this part I commend much 
the deducing of the law of God to cases of conscience ; for 
that I take indeed to be a breaking, and not exhibiting 
whole of the bread of life. But that which quickeneth 
both these doctrines of faith and manners, is the elevation 
and consent of the heart; whereunto appertain books of 
exhortation, holy meditation, Christian resolution, and 
the like. 

20. For the liturgy or service, it consisteth of the 
reciprocal acts between God and man; which, on the part 
of God, are the preaching of the word, and the sacra¬ 
ments, which are seals to the covenant, or as the visible 
word; and on the part of man, invocation of the name of 
God; and under the law, sacrifices ; which were as visible 
prayers or confessions: but now the adoration being in 
spiritu et veritate , 3 there remaineth only vituli labiorum ; 4 
although the use of holy vows of thankfulness and retri¬ 
bution may be accounted also as sealed petitions. 

21. And for the government of the church, it con¬ 
sisteth of the patrimony of the church, the franchises of 
the church, and the offices and jurisdictions of the church, 
and the laws of the church directing the whole; all which 
have two considerations, the one in themselves, the other 
how they stand compatible and agreeable to the civil 
estate. 

22. This matter of divinity is handled either in form 
of instruction of truth, or in form of confutation of false¬ 
hood. The declinations from religion, besides the priva¬ 
tive, which is atheism, and the branches thereof, are 
three; Heresies,Idolatry, and Witchcraft; heresies, when 
we serve the true God with a false worship; idolatry, 
when we worship false gods, supposing them to be true: 
and witchcraft, when we adore false gods, knowing them 
to be wicked and false: for so your Majesty doth excel¬ 
lently well observe, that witchcraft is the height of idolatry. 
And yet we see though these be true degrees, Samuel 
teaeheth us that they are all of a nature, when there is 
once a receding from the word of God; for so he saith, 
Quasi peccatum ariolandi est repugnare et quasi scelus 
idololatrice nolle acquiescere . 5 

23. These things I have passed over so briefly because 

a Job. iv. 23, 24. 


4 Hosea xiv. 2. 


5 1 Sam. xv. 23. 



209 


In Divinity no Dejicience is to be noted. 

I can report no deficience concerning them: for I can 
find no space or ground that lieth vacant and unsown in 
the matter of divinity: so diligent have men been, either 
in sowing of good seed, or in sowing of tares. 

T HUS have I made as it were a small globe Conclusion. 

of the intellectual world, as truly and _ . 

faithfully as X could discover; with a note and description 
of those parts which seem to me not constantly occupate, 
or not well converted by the labour of man. In which, if 
X have in any point receded from that which is commonly 
received, it hath been with a purpose of proceeding in 
melius, and not in aliud ; a mind of amendment and pro- 
Science, and not of change and difference. For I could 
not be true and constant to the argument I handle, if I 
were not willing to go beyond others ; but yet not more 
willing than to have others go beyond me again: which 
may the better appear by this, that I have propounded my 
opinions naked and unarmed, not seeking to preoccupate 
the liberty of men’s judgments by confutations. For m 
anything which is well set down, I am in good hope, that 
if the first reading move an objection, the second reading 
will make an answer. And in those things wherein I have 
erred, I am sure I have not prejudiced the right by liti¬ 
gious arguments; which certainly have this contrary 
effect and operation, that they add authority to error, and 
destroy the authority of that which is well invented: for 
question is an honour and preferment to falsehood, as on 
the other side it is a repulse to truth. But the errors I 
claim and challenge to myself as mine own : the good, if 
any be, is due tanquam adeps sacrificii, to be incensed to 
the honour, first of the Divine Majesty, and next of your 
Majesty, to whom on earth I am most bounden. 


DEO GLOKIA. 


p 


GLOSSARY. 


Adventive, from without, foreign. 

Apprompt, stir up, quicken. 

Aspersion , besprinkling. 

Cavutel , caution, scruple. So Shakspeare: 

“ For now no soil or cautel doth besmirch 
The virtue of his will.” — Hamlet , i, 3. 

Civil, popular, prevailing. 

Coarctation , restraint. 

Contentation, content. So p. 18, we find contestations. 
Contestation, weariness, sorrow. 

Copie (for Latin copia), abundance. 

Coi'roborate, strengthened, matured. 

Digladiation, sparring. 

Elench, refutation. 

Estuation, agitation. 

Expulse, expel. 

Ground, a theme in music. 

Holding, pertaining to. 

Hours, seasons, dispositions (Fr. de bonnes heures). 
Humorous, petulant. 

Idols, illusions, false appearances. 

Hlaqueation, ensnaring. 

Leese, lose. 

Lidger, legate. 

Maniable, tractable. 

Aloe, according to Latham, the old positive form 
whence more is derived, and so used by Hooker 
(i. 4.), but by Bacon as a comparative. 
Horigeration, submission. 



Glossary. 


211 


Parcel, part. 

Peccant humours, corrupt tendencies. (Fr.) Cf. Le 
medecin malgre lui, ii. 4. 

Percase, perchance. 

Politique, politician. 

Pray in aid, call in. A legal term. So Shakspeare : 

“ You shall find 

A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness.” 

Ant. and, Cleop. v. 2. 

Prenotion, foreknowledge. 

Presention, perception beforehand. 

Propriety, property. 

Punctual, as small as a point, trivial. So Milton, of 
the earth: 

“ This punctual spot.”— Par. Lost, viii. 23. 

Punto, punctilio. 

Pedargution, confutation. 

Reintegration, renewal. 

Reluctation, resistance. 

Respective, careful, attentive. 

Saddest, gravest. 

Secured, without hindrance. 

Statua, for statue. So Shakspeare : 

“ Ev’n at the base of Pompey’s statua.”— Jul. Cobs. iii. 2. 

Typocosmy, a representation of the world. 

JJre, practice. 

Vermiculate, intricate, subtle. (Fr. vermicuU.) 





LONDON: 

SAYILL AND EDWARDS, PRINTERS, 
CHANDOS STREET. 






w * ^ 

> > 







■» ^TNrv * O 0 * &/}WhL * ■»> H 

« ,J o o^ • “, *■* 

: a -u *- = iP - 

O * <$ ■ **.' 7 

A C k 


cl A 7 Y//A^A\\V ® Av v </* •* 

^ °- 5 Wl* ** V \ 

0 





\ 00 .* 



A V 

«■ 

A i c 

^ ' n T o ’* °, * 8 l a * 

„ A °*° c& + *t. 9 1 



<%> 

\ V c V «l ; 

,v «- A v v s v „. ^ 

„£. A^ r a. r A . v» * * 

- %<*? L ' ; ^ .# ;' 

: ^ % \Wjss J>% \yt r,* 

<\ A /f I s s \0^ <f 

A \ V 0 n'/^* * * 6 s - v » 





~ x JFH/Z»C2* + 

* V 

o 0 N 

C* V ,,\Lo*L*, > /,* ' 

V‘ v, ^ <X ,£>. <kLS 4*. _ 

° ^ ® ^ii^. *" ^ <8 « ^ X ^ ^ ® 


<L A 2 

° V -$» o 

, b c y °*^ a x ftNC 
\V . 1 * * <# A' r 0 v 

; v ^ 'f ^ ' i> * c-S^\\ ^ ^ L' 



,y> y 

o o 


^ 

\ \ » 

■O *,,-,* ^ s . . ^ 

* 0 4- % \> i'Lw ♦. 

y g38f*^v- 

r - <?*„ ^ * 

^ . 7 

"", ■ mm : J 3 ^ 

<-> */*my*r -v 

o N C ^ / y * * S A , v 1 B ^ 

k ‘° 5 c '' Vi 

'- ’oo'' 















* -V 




• O'# <* ■* o * k * A 

' ’ s j? A' o n c b 

i -P A , c * 

* A' < 

* .Oo, 

W ^ y. 



•%. ^ 



\ > tn* ^ V 

C ^ V . s 


*> ___ 

* 

r/'T ^ V' .cv> ’ 9, A 

^ 0 K 0 ^ 

O' ^ 

^ * <- 

o <£> 

0 ^<r> <V> ^ ^M/l * 

* ** v \ V v- 

fjs * &V ' O S ^ >9 - ^ 

aO 0 N C ^ Z * * S " v l B V ^ 0 ♦ \ ■ * /\ 

# o (V * v D Q sp a\ 

> ^ ^ ^ 0 ° *' ^ V- 1 # , 

^ A^O'.' JpJ^L J v Jar^rt / / -V -45 "^3^ V ^ 

«v» V **• A' *<* 

O 0 x * / V ^ ^ V 


t A z 
r> ^ 


* < 



r ' V x v, 

° ^ o\ X 

</' 'V 

% 





£- -1st*; >• o 

>, * f , I s 

%• \V s' r 


;/ v* ; .^ ; V’ Ws', 

5 ■,'::^* -, v # .*♦, v ■ ■ / 

o 0 

^ o \ U 9^ >- 





O O' 

v oH. v^. * 

c^ T^y/MF \ \' . 

>* .-.o j % ' ,#■ % 

,v »”*» V X s' * * 

;» *• ja * •*> . ^ - ~- ' 

%■ & * 

<p .< v ° 



/ / % 

» > o 0 U **>jY?7^ '’ <P A 

X. -A i 



sX V 

o 0 



N°°<. 


^ ^ O r rU ^ W <. A 

- '••’* f *r 


*£> \ , «: 
'**4? - 



- ^ 

J> 


: *yff||« 

o' .' 

O xO 

°<, 


-rj ;‘ 














